Into the Last Good Fight
by 1991Kira
Summary: Sequel to OMITF. The adventures of everyone's favorite time-travelling turian continue as he and Commander Shepard kick Collector butt and chew bubblegum. . . except they're all out of bubblegum. ME2. Shakarian. Time-travel.
1. Prologue

_**2184 CE**_

Matriarch Lismenea Tevos sighed as she stretched back in her chair. The life of a Citadel Councilor was never an easy one.

Even after three hundred years of serving on the Citadel, her job hadn't gotten any easier. There were always new problems to solve, new difficulties to overcome, new disputes to settle. . . .

And to be frank, Tevos _liked_ it that way. It was the whole reason she had volunteered for the job in the first place.

Even as a young maiden she had never been content with the simple life. She'd longed for challenges, thirsted for knowledge and generally done everything in her power to improve herself as much as she could.

Which was why, at seven hundred and fifty, she was the youngest Matriarch to ever serve as the asari representative on the Citadel Council.

A life of leisure and boredom had never been one for her. Even as a child she had despised the casual manner in which her fellow asari spent their lives. They were the species with the longest life-span in the galaxy, and how did they spend their time? Almost all the maidens spent their first couple of centuries dancing in bars or playing mercenary. Even if such behavior could be dismissed as the frivolity of youth, it still didn't excuse that nearly all matrons spent their lives working in and around asari space. And the less said about the so-called ' _wise_ ' Matriarchs, the better.

Thinking about the Matriarchs brought a frown to her face. Her last conversation with the Thessian Council had not been a pleasant one.

She seethed inwardly at the arrogance of those fools. All she had requested was a posthumous award for the late Commander Shepard and a simple statement recognizing her contributions at the Battle of the Citadel. Was that really too much to ask!?

Shepard had sacrificed her _own_ people in order to save the Destiny Ascension and its crew. Given that she could have just as easily left them to die, and the significance of the Ascension to asari history (it was the ship that discovered the Citadel, after all), the least they could do was acknowledge her efforts. If nothing else, this would get them the goodwill of the humans, who were doing a pretty excellent job of establishing themselves in the galaxy.

It was times like these that made her wish Matriarch Aethyta had not left Thessia. The laid-back, straightforward-to-a-fault Matriarch had always one of her favorites. She, Lidanya and herself had always been the most forward-thinking members of the Council. With her departure, it was only Lidanya and herself against the rest of them.

But Aethyta's personal problems coupled with the way she was openly shunned by the traditionalists had become too much to bear. Not that Tevos blamed her; anyone would have cracked under that kind of pressure. She was just surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

Aethyta's estrangement from the Council only served to make the situation worse. What little bit of restraint they'd had before was gone, and now they were passing one foolish resolution after another. Like the decision the confiscate the late Matriarch Benezia's estate, thereby depriving young Liara T'Soni of her heritage. Such a travesty would never have happened if Aethtya had still been around.

But that was neither here nor there. . .

Tevos exhaled softly. To be honest, she did have her own reasons for recommending Shepard for the honors. Apart from the fact that she was personally indebted to her for saving her life (unlike Sparatus and Valern, Tevos _always_ repaid her debts), she'd had a soft spot for the young human female since the first time they'd met.

Whatever else she may have been, in her eyes Jane Shepard had always been a good woman. Shepard had been always been refreshingly honest in her dealings with the Council despite the deplorable way Sparatus insisted on treating her. Unlike other Spectres she had never allowed her power to go to her head, nor did she use her new status to demand concessions for the Systems Alliance, something Sparatus had warned that she might do.

Then there was her first mission for the Council: Tevos had observed Shepard very closely at every stage of her hunt for Saren, and was rather pleased by what she saw. Not only did Shepard complete her missions on Feros and Noveria successfully, she did so with minimum civilian casualties. While there were a few controversial decisions she had made, Tevos wasn't bothered much by them. She was actually glad for the destruction of the Prothean ruins on Therum (the Goddess-damned dig-site would have only led to _more_ disputes between the Council races); and while the last Rachni Queen's freedom was a matter of some concern, she knew for a fact that the STG was keeping a close eye on the situation, and would respond quickly and decisively should they become a threat to Galactic stability. Not to mention she was rather curious to see how the Rachni would turn out.

All things considered, Tevos herself couldn't see a way Shepard could have done things any better. In spite of the severe lack of resources and support from the Council, she had managed to thwart Saren's plans and saved all of their lives.

And they rewarded the brave warrior by sending her to her death.

Tevos still couldn't believe the sheer arrogance of the other two Councilors, sometimes. First those two had rail-roaded her into forcing Shepard to return to the Citadel, and when things started going badly they insisted on being evacuated on the Destiny Ascension, leaving the Citadel behind to burn! And after everything Shepard did to save them, those two didn't even have the courtesy to tender a formal apology to the human Spectre!

Valern she could understand. The old salarian was notorious even during his STG days for being a merciless back-stabber, but Sparatus had surprised her. What happened to the famous turian concept of honor and loyalty? When had the man, who in his younger days had been the most idealistic of them all, become so bitter and cynical?

Then again, she mused, he _had_ lost his wife to the Relay 314 incident. That certainly explained why he was always so eager to jump the gun on any matter that involved humans.

 _Looks like Saren wasn't the only turian with an irrational hatred towards our new friends in the galaxy. . . ._

Tevos sighed softly. Sometimes she wished she could be more ruthless and controlling like her cousin, Matriarch Irissa. It certainly would have helped in dealing with the Saren problem.

All this brought back memories of Commander Shepard's final report on Saren and his allies.

 _The Reapers. . . ._

When Tevos had first heard the mention of the Reapers in Shepard's reports, she had dismissed it as a fairy-tale. For indeed that is what the tales of Reapers had always been to the asari: bedtime stories.

And not just the asari either. Every single civilization in the galaxy had their own stories about the prophesised 'end-of-days'. Fables of ancient gods who returned to eradicate all life when the cycle was at its end. The Reapers no doubt had similar significance to the Geth's culture (assuming AI even _had_ a culture); something which Saren blatantly exploited to get them on his side.

That had been her theory back then. The lack of any evidence to support the existence of these Reapers had pretty much convinced her that it was another one of those conspiracy theories their Intelligence teams frequently ran afoul of.

But now. . . . now she wasn't so sure.

Shepard's death barely a month after the Battle of the Citadel forced her to see the whole situation in a whole new light. Tevos had been a politician long enough to know an assassination when she saw one. Someone wanted to silence the human, or perhaps they thought she was getting too powerful for her own good. . . . either way it didn't change the fact that someone had dearly wanted, and succeeded, in getting rid of Commander Jane Shepard.

Then there was the manner in which she was killed. The Alliance report speculation that the unprovoked attack on the Normandy might have been an act of vengeance by Batarian slavers for Balak's death.

But the STG report was a completely different story. The emission signature made them suspect that the enemy ship had been a cruiser of unknown origins, which was disturbing when one considered that they had records of heat emission signatures of every kind of ship in the galaxy. Then there was the technology involved: the ship was undoubtedly sophisticated enough to sneak up on the Normandy (which itself was a one-of-its-kind Stealth spacecraft). Its cannons were supposedly powerful enough to rip clean through the Normandy's armor with two shots. Tevos knew that no two-bit slavers could possibly have a ship like that and the Hegemony simply did not have the resources to send their best ships out to hunt the first Human Spectre; and if the Normandy's pilot's testimony was to be believed, it most certainly was not a Geth ship either.

Tevos herself knew of only one ship that could annihilate the Normandy like that: _Sovereign_. Except that Sovereign was in pieces and its main gun (which she knew the turians stole from the wreckage) couldn't possibly have been reverse-engineered within a single month.

Then what in the name of the Goddess killed Commander Shepard?

Her musings were cut short when her aide walked into the room. "Excuse me, Councilor? You have an incoming call."

"Not now, Naeezya."

She fidgeted slightly. "Councilor, it's a code 669."

Tevos felt her brows lift slightly. A code 669 message indicated the caller was pretty high up on her priority list.

"Very well, patch it through."

Her console lit up and Tevos absentmindedly typed a few commands. She looked at the encryption on the call and froze.

 _What in the name of the Goddess!?_

"Naeezya!" she called into the intercom.

"Yes, Councilor?"

"Is the room secure?"

There was a pause. "It is now, Councilor."

"Thank you. And please see to it that I am not disturbed for the next hour or so."

"Understood, Councilor."

Tevos waited until the intercom went dead to activate her omni-tool. She swept it across the room, and after satisfying herself that the STG bugs were not responding, she typed in a few more commands. Her omni-tool gave a soft ping as its final security feature activated, ensuring that any stray listening devices would pick up only static for the next few hours.

Heart thumping wildly in her chest, she pressed a button on her console, causing her entire screen to become black, only a symbol glowing at the center.

The symbol of the Shadow Broker.

"Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Councilor Tevos," a heavily synthesized voice said.

"What do you want?" Tevos asked brusquely.

"Straight to business then. I have been reliably informed that you suspect foul play in the unfortunate death of Commander Shepard."

Tevos felt her heart skip a beat. "I am afraid that I do not know what you're talking about."

"Please, Councilor! Did you honestly think that _I_ would not notice your less than subtle attempts at accessing the Alliance's case files regarding the attack on the Normandy SR1?" There was a hint of smugness in the voice.

Tevos sighed. She really should have known better than to assume that no one would notice her hacking into the Systems Alliance databases. Even if her aides were smart enough to evade detection from the STG, there was no way they could hope to escape the Broker's attention. He had eyes _everywhere_.

"What do you want?" she repeated testily.

"I merely wish to inform you that you're trying too hard. The information you seek is right under your nose, as the human saying goes."

Tevos frowned. "What are you talking about?"

A pause. "You're looking for evidence about the Reapers, aren't you Councilor?"

"Yes. . ." she said slowly.

"Then would it not be prudent of you to start with the species believed to have been eradicated them so many years ago? The Protheans?"

"You think I do not know that?" she snapped. The Broker's condescending tone was beginning to get on her nerves, especially since she'd spent the last year searching desperately for the smallest scraps of information.

"You _know_ we already sent teams out to Ilos to verify Shepard's claims. We found the ruins exactly as she described them but the VI. . ."

"Was not responding," the Broker finished. "Yes, I am aware. What _you_ are not aware of, my dear Councilor, is that there is another Prothean VI similar to the one on Ilos. And the good news: it still functions to this day."

It took all of Tevos' willpower to not gape at the monitor. "There is _another_ Prothean VI?"

"A fully functioning one," the Broker confirmed. "And to my knowledge, it possesses all the data you need to confirm the existence of these Reapers."

"Where is it?" she demanded.

"Do you really not know, Councilor?" the amusement was back in the Broker's voice. "Can you really not think of _anyone_ who would hold onto such secrets, such sophisticated Prothean technology merely to maintain their supremacy in the galaxy?"

Tevos frowned in thought for a few moments, and realization dawned upon her. "It cannot be. . ." she whispered.

"I see you figured it out," the Broker's voice was laced with approval.

"That is impossible! You are lying. . ."

"Am I? We both know what really lies in the Temple of Athame, Councilor."

Tevos paled. The true nature of the Temple of Athame was the Thessian government's greatest secret. No one, except for the Matriarch Council and the highest leaders of the government were aware of it, and each and every one of them would die before willingly giving up such confidential information.

 _Then how could the Broker possibly know. . . ?_

She shook her head slightly. No, she couldn't dwell on that right now. There were more pressing concerns.

"There are only Prothean artifacts inside the Temple. There is no VI. . ."

"Oh, but there is," the Broker insisted. "The artifacts are the triggers to activate the central beacon, which is where the VI is housed."

"And you say that it contains information about the Reapers?"

"It does."

"Bu that is. . . that is impossible!" Tevos exclaimed. "Those artifacts have been studied for the last thousands of years. If there was a VI with information on the Reapers, there is no way the Matriarch Council would not have known about it!"

There was another pregnant pause. "Exactly my point, Councilor."

Tevos reeled backwards as the implications of that statement hit her. "Are you saying," she whispered slowly. "That the Matriarchs. . . . have _always_ known?"

"Indeed."

Tevos felt the whole world spin around her. This couldn't possibly be happening. . .

All this time she had searched so desperately, grasping at the smallest scraps of information to verify Shepard's claims; and all this time her _own_ government had had everything she needed. Information of such magnitude, data of such critical importance . . . and they hid this from the galaxy all this time!?

And for what? To maintain the vaunted superiority of the asari? Tevos understood the importance of guarding your advantage thoroughly. She could even understand, even if she didn't necessarily accept, the manner in which the Asari government regulated the handling of Prothean technology to ensure that no other species would be able to unlock its potential like they had thousands of years ago.

But this? This was beyond ridiculous! If Shepard's description was to be believed, they were talking about an entire race of sentient machines which have been purging their galaxy of organic life for millions of years. Even the mighty Protheans, who controlled the entire galaxy at the height of the power, were completely eradicated by them!

And the Matriarchs wanted to keep their existence hidden from the other races!? Tevos would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious.

"How do you know all this?" Tevos asked the Broker quietly.

"I have my ways. Suffice to say that we have similar goals. . . for now."

"What goals?"

"I wish to prevent the annihilation of all organic life in our galaxy, just like you. Don't act so surprised, Councilor," the Broker continued as Tevos widened her eyes. "We both know what truly awaits us when, not if, the Reapers arrive."

"But Shepard stopped them!" she protested. "She said she stopped them from using the Citadel. . ."

"Commander Shepard did not stop the Reapers, she merely delayed their arrival," the Broker stated. "Make no mistake, Councilor. An ancient race of beings as powerful as them will not be stopped simply by closing a door."

"You seem strangely convinced about the Reapers' existence," Tevos said suspiciously. "How do you know so much about them?"

"My sources are my own; and in time. . . in time I will share them with you."

"You will?" she asked in surprise. It was completely unheard of for the Shadow Broker to be so accommodating.

"As long as you work towards saving our galaxy, then yes, I will. Understand this, Councilor: the unavoidable war with the Reapers will be the greatest trial this galaxy has ever faced, and if we do not learn to put aside our differences and fight together, there won't be a galaxy left for us to squabble over."

"Surely you exaggerate. . ."

"If anything I am actually understating things. You saw what Sovereign alone did to the Citadel fleet, Councilor. Imagine what an army of them can do."

Tevos shuddered violently in her chair. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because you are a leader," the Broker said bluntly. "You are a leader of your people, and thus obligated to do what you can to prepare them for the greatest threat to their existence."

"But I cannot go against the other Matriarchs," Tevos pointed out.

"You can and you will. You have done so before, and for less important reasons."

"You don't understand," Tevos said tersely. "This is different! Besides, for all I know the Matriarchs have made plans of their own. . ."

"And you are willing to wager the fate of the entire galaxy on that assumption?"

Tevos pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

 _Athame damn him! He's right!_

She took a deep breath. "I will. . . see what I can do. But I make no promises."

"That is all I ask for, Councilor," the Broker said approvingly. "In the meantime I shall endeavour to share with you whatever information I manage to uncover. Expect to be contacted my agents in the future."

"Very well. And I assume you are not doing this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"You assume correctly." The Broker's synthesized voice sounded slightly amused. "But payment can be discussed later. For now, consider this a toast to the beginning of a new relationship."

"I shall keep in touch. Goodbye, Councilor."

And the call went dead before Tevos could say a single word.

* * *

Tevos planted her elbows on the desk and buried her head into her hands.

What was that human saying again: something about being careful what you wish for?

She had set out to validate her suspicions of criminal intent behind Shepard's death, and ended up stumbling head-first into a conspiracy by her own people.

 _Goddess help me. . ._

But this was no time to sit and feel sorry for herself. There was work to be done.

She clasped her fingers together in thought. The first thing she had to do was conduct her own investigations. She didn't trust the Shadow Broker at all, especially not when the information was given out for free. For all she knew she was being led into a trap of some sort.

No, she had to be absolutely certain.

So yes, she would assign this job to one of her most trustworthy Spectres. In the meantime she would discuss the Broker's infromation with Lidanya, who was the only Matriarch she trusted at this point. Perhaps together they could also try finding Aethyta; an asari of action like her was exactly what they needed right now.

She disabled her jamming programs and activated the intercom. "Naeezya?"

"Yes, Councilor?"

"Send word to Tela Vasir to meet me in my chambers at the earliest. Classify it as a code 664."

"Understood, Councilor."

Tevos sighed and whirled around in her chair to look out the window, at the Presidium.

Now all she could do was wait.

* * *

 **AN: So what do you think, people? Like the premise so far?  
**

 **The fun starts with the next chapter :)**


	2. Return of the Shepard

**_2185 CE. Freedom's Progress._**

Commander Jane Shepard was having a bad day.

She dived out of the way as a rocket from the YMIR mech disintegrated her fragile cover.

Scratch that. A _really_ bad day!

"Tali!" she bellowed. "Any _fucking day_ now would be nice!"

"I'm _trying_ , Shepard!" Her quarian friend yelled back, slapping away at her omni-tool. "Keelah! How in the hell Veetor did manage such complex encryption patterns while drugged out of his mind? He's a better drunk programmer than I am when sober!"

"You can admire his goddamn skills later! Just get this thing off my fucking tail!" Shepard screamed as she dodged another hail of gun-fire.

The YMIR mech aimed its rocket launcher at the fleeing redhead and was about to fire off another salvo before a bluish glow enveloped it, pulling it backwards.

"Keep at it, Jacob!" Miranda Lawson ordered. "We can't let that thing hurt the Commander!"

Shepard frowned. That was almost. . . _nice_ of her.

"I spent two years working on reviving that bloody woman," Miranda was muttering to herself. "I absolutely _refuse_ to do it all over again because of that bucket of bolts!"

 _That bitch!_

Mentally cursing Miranda Lawson to the pits of hell, Shepard ducked behind another crate and fumbled with the thermal clips on her belt. As she reloaded her assault rifle, her thoughts went back to how her incredibly crazy day had begun and she suddenly found herself wondering which deity she'd pissed off so badly in her previous life.

* * *

 ** _16 hours ago. Lazarus Research Station._**

 _"_ _Commander!"_

She stirred feebly and her eyelids flickered.

 _"_ _Wake up, Commander!"_

Oh, come on! Couldn't she get a good night's sleep even when she was dead? Wait, she _was_ dead. . . right?

 _"_ _Shepard, do you hear me?"_

She frowned softly as the voice finally registered in her drug-addled brain. An Australian accent. . . was she in Aussie heaven by any chance? But why? She was a New Yorker by birth, so she should be in Yankee heaven, right?

 _"_ _Get out of that bed now!"_

She ignored the incredibly bossy voice and stayed put. Oh hell no! She wasn't going anywhere! She wasn't going to the wrong heaven just because some dumb bureaucrats in the afterlife mixed up her paperwork or something. She was staying _right_ where she was! No way was she going to Aussie heaven and wrestle alligators for all eternity, or whatever the hell they did there. . .

 _"_ _Shepard! You're scars aren't healed but I need you to get moving. This facility is under attack!"_

 _Attack._ Years of ingrained instincts kicked in at the mention of the word 'attack'. Taking a deep breath, Commander Jane Shepard opened her eyes. . .

. . . . and promptly wished she hadn't.

She groaned loudly and resisted the urge to throw up all over herself. Her pounding headache was exacerbated by looking straight into a bright light above her head. When she found the bastard who forgot to switch the lights off she was going to stick her foot up his. . .

 _"_ _Shepard, wake up!"_

"I'm up, I'm up," she mumbled, her voice hoarse from disuse. She hopped off the table and looked around blearily.

Oh God, her head was _killing_ her! She hadn't woken up with such a headache since the post-Battle of the Citadel celebration. While she couldn't exactly recall much about the party itself, she did remember waking up the next day in bed with Ashley and Liara, all of them naked as the day they were born. By mutual consent they'd all agreed to keep it a secret, though Liara had looked slightly disappointed.

 _"_ _There's a pistol and a suit of armor in the locker on the other side of the room. Hurry!"_

Wincing at the shrill voice of the mysterious speaker, Shepard stumbled drunkenly towards the nearby locker.

 _"_ _You don't have time to wait around, Shepard. Grab your weapon and armor!"_

"Hey, the armor doesn't put itself on, y'know," Shepard snapped. The incessant nagging was getting on her already frayed nerves.

 _"_ _We're under attack. You don't have time to. . ."_

"I know what ' _under attack_ ' means, lady. Sheesh!" She frowned at her pistol. "Hey Crocodile Hunter, what's wrong with this thing?"

 _"_ _Look for a thermal clip for your pistol."_

"What the fuck is a thermal clip?" Shepard felt her headache return with a vengeance.

 _"_ _Detachable heat sinks. Think of them like a magazine from a vintage gun."_

Shepard nodded. She knew how the early guns that used gunpowder used to work. But then she frowned again. "Why isn't there a. . thermal clip here?"

 _"It's a Med Bay."_

"Of course, since it's totally normal to have hard-suits and pistols in a goddamn med bay," Shepard mumbled under her breath.

 _"_ _Listen carefully, Shepard. Someone's hacking security trying to kill you. Find a thermal clip and. . ."_

The door exploded and Shepard instinctively dived behind cover. She glanced over it and saw LOKI mechs advancing on her position.

 _What the diddly fuck is going on here!?_

She felt her foot brush against something and spotted a small cylinder with glowing red panels on the sides: a thermal clip.

Commander Shepard slotted it into her pistol and readied herself.

 _Business as usual, I guess. . . ._

* * *

"Woot!" Shepard happily exclaimed as she cracked the encryption on an electronic safe. Five thousand credits downloaded itself into her omni-tool with a cheerful jingle.

Normally, even the most hardened kleptomaniac would sacrifice a few potential resources while fleeing a facility under siege. But a year of hunting crazy turian Spectres with little to no resources had wreaked havoc upon the delicate psyche of Commander Shepard, giving her a level of OCD that would be any psychiatrist's worst nightmare.

Still, this strange behavior actually _helped_ her in this case. Her incessant desire to poke and prod everything in sight, and her uncontrollable urge to swipe everything that wasn't nailed down helped her find some very interesting information on a few idle terminals.

Shepard frowned. By the looks of things she was part of something called Project Lazarus, headed by the bossy Aussie who was screaming at her in the Med Bay, Miranda or something; and if the data on the terminals was to be believed, the purpose of the project was to. . . bring her back from the _dead_!?

But that wasn't possible, right? People didn't come back from death, even _with_ the use of cutting-edge technology. They probably just revived her from a comatose state or something. . .

. . . right?

She dimly recalled the attack on the Normandy. Chucking Joker into the escape pod, getting hit by that beam, falling away into space, her suit breached, unable to breathe. . .

Shepard shook her head roughly. _Not the time. Now's not the time. . ._

Besides, there was no point in making unnecessary assumptions until she had all the whole picture.

 _Yup. Best to keep moving forward._

So she continued with what she was doing. Destroying mechs, picking up thermal clips, swiping the occasional useful item. . . .

Until she ran into Jacob Taylor.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were still a work in progress."

Shepard simply rolled her eyes.

Her first impression of Taylor was that he was a stereotypical marine. Straightforward, honest, good at following orders. . . and didn't have much up there to speak of.

Still, he was a biotic, and having an extra gun made it all the more easy to dispatch those annoying LOKIs.

The stuff he told her were also pretty interesting. Apparently her deductions had been mostly correct. This Miranda Lawson was in-charge of the whole damn thing that brought her back to life. Cutting edge-technology was indeed used to bring her back from a state of 'meat-and-tubes', as Taylor put it so eloquently.

 _Great. As if having Prothean doomsday visions seared into my brain wasn't bad enough, now I'm a cyborg zombie of some kind. . ._

Thinking about Taylor's description of her corpse made Shepard shiver inwardly. She really wanted to know all the details about this so-called Lazarus project. But there was nothing she could do about it. . . not right now, anyway. By his own confession Taylor was a simple grunt, so until she met Miranda Lawson in person, she wasn't going to get anything concrete

So they continued to push forward, stopping briefly to pick up that Wilson guy from the recordings. She stood back and watched from a distance as Taylor patched up the hapless scientist, keeping an eye out for any stray mechs, until . . .

"Shepard, if I tell you who we're working for, will you trust me?"

"Jacob, you're not _seriously_ going to tell her. . ."

"She needs to know, Wilson." He turned towards her. "Commander, the Lazarus Project, the program that rebuilt you. . . it's funded and controlled by Cerberus."

Shepard frowned at him. "And what's this. . . Cerberus supposed to be?"

"Well," Taylor rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "We're kind of a pro-human organization that. . . well, err. . . . ." He looked to Wilson for help, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Long story short, we're a covert para-military group that promotes human interests. It's no surprise you haven't heard of us, though. We used to be a pretty respectable organization back in the day, but the last couple of years have pretty hard on us, financially and otherwise."

"Yeah," Taylor nodded enthusiastically. "We still do pretty good work though. I mean, the Alliance simply declared you dead. Cerberus spent a fortune bringing you back."

Shepard simply stared at him. "Riiiiiiight. And why _exactly_ did they do that again?"

Wilson shrugged. "That answer's way above our pay-grade."

"Fine, then," Shepard said. "Let's go find someone who _can_ give me that answer."

The unlikely trio began to move towards the shuttle bay, thinning out the herds of mechs as they went. They had barely arrived at the exit when. . .

BANG.

Wilson's brains splattered all over the wall.

"What the hell did you do?" Taylor yelled at the newcomer with the smoking gun.

"My job. Wilson betrayed us all."

Shepard privately congratulated herself for having enough sense to stay behind those two at all times. "I had a feeling that asshole was upto something. . ." she muttered quietly.

"Good instincts," Miranda said approvingly.

"So. . . you're Miranda Lawson," Shepard fixed the brunette with a baleful glare. "I know all about you and your Lazarus Project. Why did Cerberus spend billions of credits bringing me back?"

"Ah, Jacob," she sneered. "I should have known your conscience would get the better of you."

Taylor coughed slightly. "Actually, the Commander doesn't even know what Cerberus is."

"What?" Lawson squawked. "How could she _not know_ what Cerberus is?" She looked scandalized at the very thought.

Shepard folded her arms and cocked her hips to one side. "Well _excuse me_ for not keeping up with all the sleazy evil organizations in the galaxy. I came down with a bad case of ' _dead_ '!"

"We are _not_ a sleazy evil organization," Lawson said hotly. "Cerberus is dedicated to the advancement of. . ." She took a deep breath and seemingly regained control of herself. "You know what. . . that's fine. More than fine, in fact; I'll just take you to the Illusive Man and he can explain everything to you."

"The _Illusive Man_?" Shepard sneered. "What kind of a name is _that_? Is he a comic-book villain or something?" She smirked inwardly as Lawson seemed to swell up in indignation. She was getting a perverse sort of pleasure in winding up the bossy brunette.

"He's our superior, and the leader of Cerberus. I suggest you. . ." She was cut off by the sound of a large explosion. "We need to get going. The Illusive Man will tell you everything when you meet him face-to-face."

"Before we go anywhere, I want you to answer some questions."

"We don't have time. . !"

"Just one question, Lawson," Shepard sauntered up to the older woman and stood right in front of her.

"Fine. Ask then!" Lawson snapped.

Shepard simply reached out and poked the brunette's well-proportioned bust. "Are those real?" she asked suspiciously.

* * *

 ** _7 hours ago. Minuteman station._**

Blue cybernetic eyes stared out of the darkness.

Commander Shepard stared back.

 _Yeah, that's not creepy at all._

"Commander Shepard."

"Yup. That's me." She narrowed her eyes at him. "And you're the Illusive Man?"

"That is what I am called, yes," he confirmed.

"I see," she nodded. "Well, I've got a question for you."

"Just the one?" he sounded almost amused.

"For now."

"Go on, then."

Shepard simply jerked her thumb behind her, presumably where Taylor and Lawson were waiting. "What the hell kind of an organization are you running, anyway?"

She did not know it back then, but she was the first person to leave the Illusive Man at a complete loss for words in a _very_ long time.

* * *

 ** _1 hour ago. Freedom's Progress._**

Commander Shepard sighed as she cast a morose look at the colony of Freedom's Progress.

How the hell did she let herself get talked into this again?

Ah yes. . . Reapers.

"Commander, we should start moving," Jacob broke her out of her funk.

"Alright," she hefted her assault rifle with a resigned sigh. "Let's go."

Still, it wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be. Having Jacob and Miranda around made it easier to deal with whatever little opposition they faced. Given that the two of them packed quite a biotic punch between them, Shepard was content to simply sit back and provide support fire while letting them do most of the work.

Which was perfectly fair, in her opinion. _They_ were being paid for this shit; _she_ was not.

Of course, this also meant that she could devote her attention to more important matters, such as looting. . . er, _liberating_ resources from the homes of the disappeared colonists.

Unfortunately, not everyone chose to look at the bright side of the situation like her.

"Shepard," Miranda said calmly, as she watched the Commander free more credits from their unjust imprisonment in a wall safe.

"Yeah, Miranda?"

"Must you do this at every apartment we go through?"

"Oh c'mon, it's not like anyone's going to miss them! Besides, all this will be in the hands of pirates and scavengers by the time the Alliance gets here," Shepard said defensively.

"But. . . but this is. . ." Miranda seemed to be struggling to convey her outrage and disappointment in Humanity's icon. "This is immoral!"

"Look who's talking," Shepard did her best impression of the Donnel Udina Sneer™ #3. "Tell me Miranda, how many innocent virgins did you sacrifice to bring my soul back from the underworld?"

"For the last time, we _did not_ use any black magic to revive you, Shepard! It was science!" Miranda seemed ready to tear her hair out in frustration.

"Whatever," Shepard yawned.

Thus did the troublesome trio continue their investigations through the colony, until they stumbled into something completely unexpected.

"Tali?" Shepard blinked in surprise. "Is that you?"

"It can't be. . ." the quarian with the purple hood gasped. "Shepard?"

"Tali!" She stepped forward to give her old friend a hug, only to find the muzzle of a gun shoved into her face.

"Stay back, Cerberus scum!" another quarian bellowed at her.

"Er. . . I'm not Cerberus," Shepard pointed out.

"Shut it, you Cerberus filth!" the quarian snapped.

"But I don't even have their symbol on me," Shepard protested.

"You think that's enough to fool us!? Cerberus trash!"

"Prazza!" Tali yelled. "What are you. . . ?"

"Stay back, Tali! I won't let these Cerberus bastards trick us again!"

Now Commander Shepard was a lot of things, but patient wasn't among them. Add to that the fact that she'd just been revived by some shadowy organization and was being forced to do their dirty work for them. . . let's just say she wasn't in the best of moods.

"Cerberus rubbish. . . Cerberus garbage. . . Cerberus vermin. . . Cerberus slime. . ."

She was tired, she was hungry, she wanted nothing more than to be done with all this and take a nice long nap. Miranda's constant nagging was already driving her up the wall, and with this crazy quarian bastard hurling abuses at her. . .

"And your hair looks stupid, you Cerberus bi. . . !"

Shepard finally lost it.

Her left hand shot upwards and knocked his assault rifle to the side, while her right hand came up to rabbit-punch him in the throat. As Prazza fell to the floor, Shepard closed in on him and with a roar of fury lifted her armored boot up and brought it down on his groin.

Prazza howled in agony, as the sound of his hopes and dreams being crushed under Shepard's heel echoed throughout the entire colony.

(Billions of light-years away, a certain Reaper with six glowing eyes shivered slightly. It had just experienced an emotion which some organics described as ' _having someone walk over your grave_ '.)

"Shepard, no!" Miranda shouted. But the redheaded Commander was completely beyond reason now.

"Ever since I woke up a few hours ago, I've had nothing but orders and insults thrown at me," Shepard snarled, as she continued to stomp at the unfortunate quarian's groin. "Hide behind the crates, Shepard," STOMP , "Grab the grenade launcher, Shepard," STOMP, "Investigate missing colonies, Shepard," STOMP, "Stop looting, Shepard."

"I've _had it_ with this shit! Completely had it, I tell you!" STOMP "I'm Commander- _fucking_ -Shepard!" STOMP "I'm _not_ with fucking Cerberus!" STOMP "And I will _not_ ," STOMP, "tolerate _any more_ ," STOMP, " _fucking_ insults!"

She cast a wild look around the room. "Is that _fucking clear_!?" she growled

No one answered her, though that was because mostly everyone was too shocked and horrified to do anything more than to nod slowly. Two of the male quarians were throwing up in their suits, and Jacob had retreated into a corner with his eyes shut and his ears firmly over his hands, rocking back and forth on his heels. Miranda was as pale as a ghost, which was an impressive feat considering her already pale complexion. And as for Tali . . .

"Shepard! It really _is_ you!"

To the surprise of everyone in the room, Tali Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya simply ran up to her old friend and pulled her into a hug.

"Hey Tali," Shepard grinned weakly, leaning into her friend's embrace. "Nice to see you too. Sorry about. . . y'know. . ." She gestured at the catatonic quarian lying at her feet.

"Don't worry about it," Tali waved her apology aside. "Prazza is an idiot anyway."

Everyone in the room, quarian and human alike, gaped at the purple-hooded quarian. Her casual dismissal of the horrendous abuse just inflicted upon one of her teammates shot barbs of fear into their hearts. Even Miranda Lawson, the infamous Ice Queen of Cerberus, swore right then and there to never _ever_ get on Tali Zorah's bad side.

After all, if she could be so cruel to her allies, just how horrific would she be to her enemies?

Oblivious to everyone's thoughts, the two old comrades chatted quietly. "So, you're sure this Veetor guy is still on the colony?"

"Absolutely. We even narrowed down his location: he's in a warehouse on the far side of town."

"That's great," Shepard smiled. "Why don't you come with us, Tali? It'll be like old times."

Tali beamed at her. "Of course, Shepard! I'd never turn down a chance to work with you."

"U-um. . . excuse me, Tali Zorah?" one of the female quarians nervously spoke.

"Yes?"

"W-What should _we_ do?"

Tali frowned slightly. Normally she would have suggested that they split into two teams to cover more ground. But her squad was mostly made up of amateurs who'd only get in her and Shepard's way.

She looked thoughtfully at Prazza still twitching on the ground. As much as she disliked the _bosh'tet_ , as team leader it was her job to get him back alive to the Flotilla.

Decision made, Tali nodded to herself. "Stay here and look after Prazza. Keep your weapons ready in case we need backup."

"As you wish, Tali Zorah. Your will be done, Tali Zorah," the quarian said fearfully, the team's respect for their superior having grown exponentially in the last few minutes. Anyone brave enough to voluntarily embrace that psychotic red-haired human was not someone _any_ of them wanted to cross.

"Wow! You have such respectful subordinates, Tali. You've really grown as a leader," Shepard praised.

Tali wanted to point out that they hadn't been so respectful until Shepard came in a few minutes ago, but then dismissed that thought immediately. Her friend was proud of her, and that was all that mattered.

"Commander," Miranda said in a surprisingly meek voice. "We should probably get going."

"Right," Shepard hoisted her own assault rifle. "Let's go find ourselves a Veetor."

* * *

 ** _Present. Freedom's Progress._**

"Tali, please tell me you got something!?" Shepard yelled.

"Come on, you _bosh'tet_. . . ah, got it!" She triumphantly raised her omni-tool at the YMIR mech, causing it to halt and look around in a confused manner.

"I scrambled its IFF," Tali called out to the others. "But it's only temporary. It'll start shooting again in a few minutes."

"You heard the girl. Bring down that sucker!" Shepard ordered.

A violent hail of gunfire and a few well-timed warps from Miranda quickly reduced the behemoth to scrap metal.

"Whew!" the Commander said. "That was a close one."

"Indeed," Miranda said dryly.

"Veetor should be inside," Tali said as she hurried to the barricaded door.

After a painstaking reunion with a traumatized young quarian, Commander Shepard finally set her eyes upon the real reason behind her resurrection.

"My God! It's the Collectors," Miranda whispered.

"Collectors?" Shepard said dumbly. "What collectors? Tax collectors? Debt collectors? I swear, if all these people are getting kidnapped simply because they owe someone money, I'm gonna. . ."

"Not _those_ kind of collectors, Shepard!" Miranda rolled her eyes. "They're _the_ Collectors, a relatively unknown species from somewhere beyond the Omega 4 Relay. They're so rarely seen that many people consider them an urban legend."

"It is said they usually work through intermediaries, like slavers or hired mercenaries," Tali supplied helpfully. "If they're involved with the Reapers like you suspect, it explains what happened to the colonies."

"How?" Shepard asked.

"Their technology is extremely advanced, beyond anything even the Flotilla has ever seen," Tali shrugged. "I suppose if there's anyone out there who can disable an entire settlement effectively, it would be them."

"The swarms," Veetor interjected. "S-seeker swarms. . . ."

"What about them?" Jacob asked.

"It's probably how they disable the colonists," Tali pointed to one of the screens that showed a colonist being overwhelmed by a swarm of bugs.

"They seem like miniature probes, maybe," Miranda said thoughtfully. "Helps find the victims, then immobilize them with a stasis field or nerve toxin."

"My guess is a toxin, tailor-made to affect humans. It would explain why Veetor is still here," Tali suggested.

"You're probably right." Miranda found her respect for Tali Zorah's intellect rising. "Now, if you'll let us take Veetor. . ."

" _Out_ of the question!" Tali snarled, her eyes glowing angrily behind her helmet. "Veetor is injured! He needs treatment, not an interrogation!"

"We only want to find out what he knows," Miranda raised her arms in a placating gesture. "We. . ."

"Aha! I knew it!" Shepard crowed triumphantly. "I _knew_ you would show your true colors eventually! You want to take Veetor so you could feed his virgin liver to your devil-worshipping xenophobic boss, don't you? Don't you, Miranda Lawson?"

Miranda resisted the urge to palm her face in frustration. "I can't even begin to point out the number of things wrong with that statement." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, before opening them and looking beseechingly at Tali. "As I was saying, we're not going to hurt him. We just want to see what he knows. . ."

"Liar!" Shepard pointed an accusing finger at her. "If it was information you wanted, you would have asked for his omni-tool data. You wouldn't specifically ask for Veetor unless you had some nefarious plans for him!"

"She's got a point, you know," Jacob offered diplomatically.

Miranda rounded on him. "Stop feeding her delusions, Jacob!" Then she turned back to the other two, noticing the wild glint in Shepard's eyes (exhaustion was finally getting to her brain) and the determined set of Tali Zorah's shoulders. She sighed in defeat. "Fine. You can take him. Just send us his omni-tool data, please?"

Tali nodded stiffly and turned to the Commander. "Thank you, Shepard. I'm glad you're the one still making the decisions here."

"Don't mention it, Tali," Shepard smiled. "C'mon, let's get you folks home."

Feeling inwardly grateful that all this crap was finally resolved, Shepard led the odd group to the exit of the small building. . . .

. . . . only to find themselves surrounded by a dozen armored soldiers, weapons aimed at their heads.

"Bloody hell," Miranda swore.

"Uhhh. . . Miranda," Shepard said as a number of targeting lasers danced on her chest-plate. "Please tell me these are friends of yours?"

"No, Shepard. They. . . they're the Shadow Broker's mercenaries!"

* * *

 **AN: Bwahahaha. . . . a cliffhanger! *cackles loudly and rubs his hands in glee***

 **On a more serious note, I am truly delighted to see such a wonderful response to the first chapter of this story. You guys really make all my efforts feel worthwhile :)**

 **So, as you folks can see, Shepard will have a much bigger role in this story than she did in the previous one. Her experience with death has made her just as crazy, if not crazier, than our favorite turian. Pray that the galaxy is able to survive these two, because the Reapers (and Cerberus) sure as hell won't.**

 **Stay tuned to find out. . . .**


	3. Secrets and Subterfuge - I

**_Present. Ilium._**

She was many things: cold, ruthless, back-stabber, double-agent, spy. . .

But the one word that described Maya Brooks perfectly, was _survivor_.

She always survived, always prevailed despite the odds being stacked against her. It was why she was one of Cerberus' top agents, one of the highest ranking officers of the human-survivalist organization, and one of the few people that the Illusive Man dealt with face-to-face.

She swiped her card at the entrance to her apartment, activated the retina and DNA scan, and sauntered in with a suitcase in one hand. There was no need to be extra cautious, not here anyway. She had staked out the whole neighborhood for months before moving in. She knew the entire place like the back of her hand: where the emergency exits where, where the lanes behind the buildings led, which were the most secure spots to hide in. Heck, she'd even mapped out the sewers beneath the lanes as a contingency plan.

Then there was her current residence: set on the thirtieth story of a high rise composed of nearly identical units that were impossible to tell apart from the outside. The apartment itself was shielded by the nearby buildings, making it nearly impossible for a sniper to get a shot in from anywhere within a thousand metre radius. The windows were few in number, and all of them were made of a composite fiber that could deflect anything short of an anti-tank round. The interior of the flat was sparse with furniture and had weapons hidden in no less than fourteen easily accessible locations, each one of them keyed to self-destruct from a simple signal from her omni-tool.

Most people would have been alarmed by this level of paranoia. But considering what Brooks had just done a few hours ago, she was more than justified with her over-the-top preparations.

She sighed as she stretched out her aching limbs. Of all the crazy things that she could have pulled, this one truly took the cake. Double-crossing and stealing from the Illusive Man was something only a person with a death wish would do.

But Brooks hadn't survived this long by being stupid. She could see the signs, even if no one else could. Despite what the Illusive Man and his die-hard supporters thought, Cerberus was headed to an early grave; and she had no desire whatsoever to join them.

Two years ago they had been among the strongest organizations in the galaxy. Money, power, resources. . . they had it all. But then something changed.

Maybe they pissed off the wrong person, maybe the Illusive Man's puppets had gone overboard with one of their crazy projects. . . either way someone had taken it upon themselves to wipe Cerberus off the map.

Entire cells disappeared practically overnight, their members dead or gone MIA; there were rumors that an independent Alliance black ops team was going after anyone even remotely associated with Cerberus, finally cleaning up their own mess for once. Whatever the real reason was, it didn't change the fact that someone was systematically taking apart their organization piece by piece, and Brooks had no desire to get caught in the middle of the purge.

Finding out that they had gone and pissed off the Shadow Broker was the last straw for her. Brooks immediately started moving her assets and bank accounts out over the course of the year. With the Illusive Man's attention focused exclusively on his new pet project, headed by that Lawson whore, she was able to relocate her resources without drawing any attention quite easily.

But that wasn't enough for her. She'd worked for the bloody organization for ten years! If she couldn't have her severance pay, then. . . well, she'd just have to get more creative, wouldn't she?

So she started digging around, spending a few months secretly mining their databases for information that she could use to demand immunity from the Alliance, should she ever need it. And then she hit the jackpot. . .

Project Lazarus. The most ambitious and well-funded project in Cerberus' history.

Brooks had scarcely been able to believe the things she discovered. If she'd only suspected that the Illusive Asshole was crazy before, reading up on project Lazarus confirmed it for her beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Billions of credits down the drain, all to resurrect a single dead marine!? It was ridiculous! A complete and utter _waste_ of resources!

But the more she thought about it, the more things made sense. Saren's attack on the Citadel, Shepard, the colony abductions. . . and this whole Reaper business. There was definitely a connection there, a tenuous one but still it was there; and Brooks had worked for the Illusive Man long enough to know that he wouldn't stake everything on a single gamble unless he was positive he would come out on top.

The whole plan was ingenious, really. If these Reapers were real, then Shepard would become the galaxy's poster-child and Cerberus would regain whatever influence they'd lost practically overnight; if they weren't real, then Cerberus would still profit, as having humanity's first Spectre on their side would cause recruitment to go through the roof and bolster Cerberus' falling reputation.

It was a perfect win-win situation for the Illusive Man.

 _Not if I have any say in it, though. . ._

Brooks traced one hand lovingly over the metallic suitcase. It was amazing how this nondescript object was going to help her achieve so much wealth and power.

Getting through the security protocols of the Lazarus project had been difficult for even someone with _her_ skills, but setting up the rest had been laughably easy. All she had to do was offer Wilson a few credits and a chance to get some payback from Lawson, and he had practically fallen over himself to help her. A simple hacking of the security mechs and the whole station went up in flames.

Brooks hadn't really been that concerned about Wilson spilling the beans on her. She knew that Lawson would figure it out easily, and being the temperamental bitch she was, she'd end up shooting him first before asking any questions. Even if he did get caught and interrogated. . . well, he had no name to put on a face, so there was nothing anybody would be able to do.

No, Brooks was completely certain that she would accomplish her goals. By this time every single researcher who worked on the Lazarus Project would be dead (and with luck, so would Lawson). Shepard would survive of course, since the Illusive Man was bound to have some contingency in place to protect his investment. Then she'd go to the godforsaken Omega 4 relay, or wherever the hell the Illusive Bastard wanted to send her.

In the meantime, Brooks would use the tissue samples she stole to create her _own_ Commander Shepard. A perfectly identical physical clone. Then all that'd be left would be to infiltrate the Citadel archives and steal Shepard's identity.

Then the ' _real_ ' Shepard, her own Shepard, would reveal itself to the Alliance; steering the people away from the ' _fake_ ' that was working for Cerberus. A manufactured story of the Hero of the Citadel's unjust imprisonment and attempted brainwashing at Cerberus' hands, and Maya Brooks would be in control of one of the most influential humans in the galaxy. The _true_ power behind the throne!

So lost was she in her thoughts that she never noticed the anti-tank round burst through her heavily fortified window and hit the side of her head. Maya Brooks barely had time to blink before her head, and a part of her upper torso, exploded in a shower of gore. She was dead before she even hit the floor.

Far away, a lone assassin ejected the spent clip from his specially-modified M98 Widow. His job was done.

* * *

A perfect head-shot from a distance of one thousand five hundred metres using an anti-tank rifle while dangling from the roof of a skyscraper was practically impossible to pull off.

But that was fine. Thane Krios was _used_ to making impossible kills.

He was the greatest assassin in the galaxy for a reason, after all.

He pulled himself over the railing and landed soundlessly on the ground. A quick prayer to Arashu, the Goddess of Protection and Mercy, and he was making his way to the ground floor.

He did not know why he killed that woman. He did not know what she had done to deserve death.

And frankly, he did not care either.

He was a living weapon; killing intent made flesh. He was merely an extension of the mind that wished for her death, a tool to carry out a job.

At least, that was what he told himself everyday for so many years.

Truth was, the days of simple detachment were long behind him. Thane was no longer a simple killer for hire. Right now, Thane's arm belonged to one man, and one man alone.

Thane owed _him_ everything. His health, his life, his son's happiness and security. . . . all of it.

But the one thing which _he_ had granted Thane was more priceless than any of it. . .

Purpose.

For the first time since Irikah died, Thane had purpose in his life. He was no longer a lost soul adrift in the oceans of Kalahira, no longer a man desperately searching for a honorable death in the guise of redemption.

No, Thane was a man with a purpose, a higher goal that he could strive for. For his sake, for Kolyat's sake. . .

Which was why there was nothing that Thane would not do if _he_ asked for it.

He lifted his omni-tool and quickly typed a message. _It is done._

The reply came in a few seconds. _Excellent. Our teams will take care of the clean-up._

A pause. _Good work._

The drell simply bowed his head and walked onto the crowded streets, vanishing into the crowds moments later.

* * *

 ** _Present. Freedom's Progress._**

Not for nothing was Commander Shepard considered to be one of humanity's greatest soldiers. Years of intense training and combat had given an almost uncanny ability to judge her opponents, which was part of the reason she so rarely failed at her missions.

Right now, as the group stood completely still, eyes taking in the Shadow Broker forces all around them, Shepard could state one thing with absolute certainty. . .

These guys were professionals.

They were nothing like the mercs she'd fought against two years ago. No these guys had Special Forces-level training, and were packing enough weaponry to level the whole colony.

Then there were the mercs themselves: Shepard could count three humans, one asari, a turian, a salarian, a batarian, what she suspected was a drell and one krogan.

Definitely the oddest group she had ever seen, apart from her own team on the Normandy.

She narrowed her eyes and surveyed her surroundings, contemplating escape routes and formulating a defensive strategy while simultaneously wondering just what the hell were the Broker's people doing here.

Her attention was drawn to one of the humans who broke off from the others and approached them slowly, rifle hanging at his side.

"Commander Shepard," he spoke in a slightly-distorted voice. "It's a pleasure to see that you've returned."

"Yeah? You've got a funny way of showing it," Shepard said sardonically.

At an invisible gesture from him, the rest of the mercs lowered their weapons as one. "Apologies. We merely wanted to ensure that your friends didn't react too hastily to our presence."

"What do you want?" Shepard asked warily.

"The Shadow Broker sends his best wishes upon your recovery, and would like to extend an invitation to meet with him personally," the lead merc said in a formal tone.

"You're shitting me!" Jacob exclaimed. Shepard thought that summed up her gut reaction perfectly.

It was completely unheard of for the Shadow Broker to meet someone in person, let alone extend a personal invitation. It was something she remembered Wrex telling her long ago, back when he talked about some of the missions he'd done for the galaxy's most notorious information broker.

"Do you always deliver your invitations with an armed escort?" Shepard asked testily.

The man said nothing, merely staring at her.

She decided to press further. "What happens if I were to refuse your generous request?"

The leader simply shrugged. "That's up to you, I suppose. But do you really want to rely solely on Cerberus' version of events? Do you not wish to know what's _really_ been going on in the galaxy for the last two years?"

Shepard frowned slightly. She had long since suspected that the Illusive Man wasn't being completely honest with her, and she knew that she couldn't trust Cerberus as far as she could throw a YMIR mech. . . .

. . . . but the question right now was: could she honestly trust the Shadow Broker over them?

Before she could say anything further, Miranda stepped in front of her.

"She's not going anywhere with you," she said quietly.

"I wasn't aware that it was your decision to make, Ms Lawson," the merc spoke with a touch of coldness in his voice.

"She's not going _anywhere_!" Miranda snarled.

Shepard glowered at her back, privately agreeing with the Broker's man. Just because she'd played along without much complaint so far, it didn't mean that Cerberus or Miranda had any right to make her decisions for her.

The Broker's man simply ignored the brunette, once again looking directly at the Commander. "The Shadow Broker instructed me to convey that you would be provided the full details of _everything_ that has transpired during your absence, Commander. Information on the Alliance, the Council, the colony abductions, the Reapers. . . all of it."

Shepard's eyes widened in surprise. _The Broker **knows** about the Reapers!?_

But before she could continue on that train of thought, Miranda acted.

"No!" she screamed, pulling out her pistol and aiming it at the Broker's spokesperson. "Shepard, don't listen to him!"

Shepard gaped slightly at Miranda. In all the time she had known the operative, she had never seen the woman look so agitated. Her biotics were swirling around her, her face was flushed with anger, her body trembling with barely concealed rage. . . she looked utterly mad.

Even Jacob seemed momentarily surprised, but recovered quickly enough to unsheathe his own shotgun, biotics at the ready.

The Broker's men were completely unimpressed, however. They hadn't even raised their own weapons, though their bodies did seem to tense slightly.

"Shepard! Don't listen to them! You can't trust _anything_ the Broker says!" Miranda said loudly, her eyes still boring into the Broker's spokesperson.

"Really, Ms Lawson. . ."

"Shepard! The Broker is working for the Collectors!"

A tense silence followed that pronouncement. Shepard simply gaped at the brunette. "What?"

"We weren't the only ones who tried to find your body after you died, Shepard," Miranda said in a grim tone. "The Broker's men were after you as well. Except that they wanted to sell you to the Collectors!"

"What the hell. . . !?" Shepard rounded on the mercs, outrage written all over her face. "Is that true? You sick bastards tried to sell me to the Collectors!?"

"Apologies, Commander," he said smoothly. "But you must know that it was not the Broker who authorized it. We had a rogue agent who took it upon himself to. . ."

"A _rogue agent_!?" Miranda scoffed in disgust. "Is that really the best excuse you can come up with?"

He shrugged. "Why not? After all, isn't that the same excuse Cerberus always uses to justify their less savory endeavors? Like Akuze, Chasca. . ."

Miranda reared back as though she'd been slapped. But the look of fury on her face was nothing compared to Shepard's when she turned to face her and Jacob.

"Is that true, Miranda?" she asked in a cold voice. "Was Cerberus behind what happened on Chasca?"

"Shepard. . ." Miranda stammered. "We. . ."

The guilty look on her face was all the confirmation the Commander needed. "Fuck you, Lawson!" she exploded.

"Shepard. . . please. . . you don't understand. . ."

"I don't understand? I don't _fucking understand_!? You lured a bunch of marines to a wasteland with a distress signal and fed them to a fucking _Thresher Maw_! What part of that do I _not understand_!?" Shepard screamed.

"And Akuze. Were you guys behind _that_ as well?"

Once again Miranda said nothing, simply averting her eyes.

"Fuck you, Lawson!" Shepard spat. It took all her self-control to not attack that woman at that very instant. She had served with some of the men who had been massacred on Akuze, both during the ICT and after. Their deaths had come as a huge blow back then.

And to think that the very organization responsible for their deaths. . . no, their _murders_ , had brought her back! It made Shepard feel sick to her stomach.

"Oh you don't know the half of it, Commander," the Broker's spokesman was clearly enjoying himself. "Chasca and Akuze are merely the tip of the iceberg. Cerberus' list of failures is much bigger. The Rachni infestation in the Argos Rho cluster, the research base on Binthu, the. . ."

"Shut up!" Miranda snapped at him, before turning to Shepard. "Commander, please! I know what it seems like, but you _must_ listen to me! Whatever else Cerberus might be, we are completely dedicated to your well-being. We spent _billions_ of credits to bring you back as you were, Shepard! The Shadow Broker, on the other hand, tried to sell your body to the Collectors. Surely you must see. . ."

"How the _hell_ do you expect me to trust you guys after what you did to my friends!?" Shepard demanded.

"Bloody hell! Shepard, they tried to hand you over to the _Reapers_!" Miranda shouted, gesticulating wildly at the Broker's men. "They were ready to serve you up to the bloody Reapers on a silver platter! What makes you think you can trust _them_ over _us_?"

Shepard bit her lip. As much as she hated to admit it, Miranda was right. Whatever else Cerberus may have done, they _had_ brought her back at an insane cost; while the Broker had been ready to sell her off to their worst enemy as though she were merchandise. She didn't buy the 'rogue agent' crap for even a second.

But the Broker was ready to be honest with her. He was ready to provide her with information that the Illusive Man would never allow her to touch. And Shepard _needed_ the intel, needed it very badly; she needed to know _exactly_ what had happened in the two years since she'd been dead. She wouldn't be able to make an informed decision otherwise.

But doing that would mean walking straight into the home of the very man who had tried to sell her remains to her greatest enemy.

 _Damn it! Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. . .  
_

Still mulling things over she looked to Tali, who had been standing quietly at the back of the group all this time, shielding an obviously frightened Veetor. Her green eyes met the glowing synthetic eyes of her friend, and she slowly jerked her head in the direction of the Broker's mercs. Tali tilted her head slightly to the side and nodded.

It took all of Shepard's training to keep the shock from showing on her face. Tali was actually telling her to go with the Shadow Broker's men!? But why would she. . . ?

Then clarity hit her like a lightning bolt.

 _Fucking hell! It was **her** all along!_

Tali was the reason the Broker was able to track them down! She must have sent their co-ordinates via omni-tool seconds after she'd confirmed Shepard's identity! It was how the Broker's men were able to get the drop on them so efficiently.

Even that discussion over the Collectors had been a ruse to buy time for the mercs. Tali had actually planned and executed the whole damn thing with textbook precision!

But why? Was Tali working for the Broker!? Since when? Did she even know about the Broker's deal with Collectors? If she did, then why would she still work with them?

A million questions were swimming inside Commander Shepard's head, but she had no time to get answers. A decision had to be made, and it had to be made fast.

Double-checking to ensure that Miranda and Jaocb's attention was fully on the Broker's men, Shepard looked at Tali again and quirked an eyebrow.

The question was clear. _Are you sure?_

Tali's response was the smallest of nods and the shadow of a wink. _Yes, I am._

And that, in Commander Shepard's opinion, settled the matter.

Now all that was left was the million credit question: Should be trust Miranda, who was a Cerberus loyalist to the core and who she owed her life to; or should she trust Tali, who was a sister in everything but blood (and species) to her?

 _Right. Like that's any choice at all. . ._

Slowly Shepard turned to face the Broker's spokesman, putting on her most wary expression. "If I come with you, do you promise to let these guys go unharmed?"

"Shepard!" Miranda yelped. "You can't seriously be thinking. . !"

But the Commander silenced her with a look. "Well?" she demanded.

The leader bowed his head. "We will do whatever you ask, Commander."

"All of them," Shepard insisted. "The quarians _and_ the Cerberus operatives."

The leader nodded. "You have our word."

Shepard released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and turned to Tali. "Get Veetor out of here, Tali. I'll see you guys later."

Tali once again gave her a meaningful look that everyone else missed. "Good luck, Shepard." She slowly led Veetor away to their ship.

Shepard waited until Tali's ship disappeared into the sky before turning to the other two. "Time for you two to leave as well."

"Shepard, you are out of your mind!" Miranda hissed angrily.

Shepard ignored her tone. "You two agreed to follow my orders while we're here. So if I say you're leaving, then you're leaving."

"Commander, this isn't right," Jacob argued. "We can't leave you with those people!"

"Jacob's right. Shepard please, it's not too late! We can buy you time while you escape with the shuttle."

"You two seriously think you can take on those guys by yourselves and survive?" Shepard gestured at the masked krogan, who was hefting his shotgun menacingly.

"Our survival doesn't matter!" Miranda said hotly. "We're acceptable losses. You're the only who's worth saving here. Everyone else is expendable!"

Shepard took a step forward until she was practically nose-to-nose with the taller woman. " _Never_ use that word around me," she whispered dangerously. "No one who fights by my side me is ' _expendable_ ', Miranda. No one."

Miranda resisted the urge to take a step back. She was uncomfortably aware of the red and white stripes on the soldier's armor, a clear reminder of who she was bossing around. Commander Shepard, N7: the greatest solider to have ever graduated the ICT program, breaking the legendary David Anderson's twenty year old record.

In a way, Shepard didn't really have much to worry about those mercs. As good as they all were, she was better. She could probably take them all out and escape if things got nasty, but that didn't exactly soothe Miranda Lawson's troubled mind.

"So," the Commander said, stepping back to her previous spot. "I'll go with our friends here and see what the Shadow Broker has to say. In the meantime, you guys can go back to your boss and do. . . whatever it is you guys usually do."

"What about you, Commander?" Jacob carefully asked. "Will you go back to the Alliance after all this?"

Shepard fixed him with a piercing look. "If," she said slowly. "If what your boss says is true, and the Alliance is really doing nothing about these abductions. . . then we'll see each other again. You can count on it."

"Oh, and make sure the Illusive Man understands that it was _my_ decision to go with the Broker. I don't want him punishing you guys over my choices." She nodded at them both. "Miranda, Jacob. . . thanks for everything. Take care."

Shepard then turned on her heel and boldly marched towards the merc leader. "Let's get moving then."

"Indeed," the leader bowed and gestured ahead. "This way, Commander."

* * *

 **AN: Oh, look at that people! We have another cliffhanger! *Hides behind desk as eggs and tomatoes are thrown***

 **Apologies to all Maya Brooks fans out there, but she was such an annoying bitch in ME3 that I prayed that something like this would happen to her. Unfortunately, that also means no Clone Shep in this story.**

 **I hope you guys liked Thane's intro. He's obviously going to be a much bigger badass than he is in the game. And yes, I gave him a M98 Widow. He's the greatest assassin in the galaxy, he deserves to have a Widow.**

 **Next up: What reason does Miranda have for despising the Broker so strongly? Why is Tali co-operating with the Shadow Broker? What plans does the Broker have for our kleptomaniac Commander?**

 **Stay tuned to find out. . .**


	4. Secrets and Subterfuge - II

Miranda Lawson ground her teeth in frustration as she watched Commander Shepard walk away.

All her hard work, all those countless hours of planning the impossible, all those sleepless nights spent putting back together their trump card against the Reapers . . .

All gone. Just like that!

The fruits of her labor were being snatched away from right underneath her nose, and there was _nothing_ Miranda could do about it.

It was so bloody unfair!

And of all the people they could lose Shepard to, it just _had_ to be the Shadow Broker.

She resisted the urge to snarl as one of the mercs (a drell, probably) gave her a cheery wave as she walked away. Really, at this point, Miranda would have been happier to hand Shepard over to the Collectors rather than let the bloody Broker get his claws into her.

"Miranda, come on," Jacob whispered, laying a hand on her shoulder. "We should get goi. . ."

She slapped his hand away. "Not now, Jacob!" she spat in anger.

He frowned. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"You have no idea. . ." she hissed, eyes still fixed on the spot where Shepard had been minutes ago. "No idea what they did. . ."

 _You have no idea what they tried to do to me._

* * *

 _ **Six months ago. Citadel.  
**_

Miranda sighed contently as relaxed in her chair, drinking deeply from a cup of the finest tea on the Citadel.

Downtime was slowly becoming a luxury as Project Lazarus approached its completion. Even though they'd successfully reanimated most of the subject's tissue, the procedure for successfully re-establishing the major neural pathways would still take a few months. She supposed she should congratulate herself for using the chance of getting more schematics for their project as an excuse to snatch some quality time at the Citadel. Goodness knew when she would get another opportunity!

"Glad to see you're enjoying yourself, Ms Lawson."

Suppressing a frown at this unwelcome interruption, Miranda opened her eyes.

"Barla Von," she nodded politely.

"Ms Lawson," the volus returned the greeting.

"I assume this is important."

"Oh, I would not dream of intruding upon your fine evening otherwise, Ms Lawson." There was the barest trace of amusement in his voice.

"In that case, would you please get to the point?" Miranda said stiffly. "My tea is growing cold."

"My apologies." The volus fished out a small disc. "I was instructed to give you this."

Miranda recognized the object for what it was. "May I ask by whom?"

"Someone whose orders I would never dare disobey."

Miranda froze in the middle of taking another sip of her tea. There was only individual who Barla Von could possibly be referring to, and she had absolutely no desire to deal with him.

"What does he want?" Miranda did her best to hide the apprehension in her voice.

"I suggest you ask him." The volus placed the disk on the table and walked away. "Have a pleasant evening, Ms Lawson."

Her heart thudding in her chest in anticipation, Miranda slowly scanned the communications decrypter with her omni-tool. She took a deep breath and schooled her face into an expression of neutrality, waiting for the call to connect.

" _Ms Lawson. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me._ " A heavily synthesized voice sounded over her comms.

"How could I refuse such a kind invitation?" she said snarkily.

" _Quite. Allow me to get to the point, then: how is Project Lazarus coming along?_ "

"I do believe that is none of your business," Miranda said in a cold tone.

" _There is very little in this galaxy that is none of my business, Ms Lawson."_ There was a hint of warning in the synthetic voice. _"But no matter: I already know the answer. I was merely asking as a courtesy._ "

 _He knows!?_ Miranda's mind immediately began running a hundred miles a minute. Was the Broker telling her that he had spies within Project Lazarus? Or was this simply a tactic to throw her off her game?

" _What I am curious to know is your plans from this point on. Specifically, your rather ambitious plans to install a control matrix in Commander Shepard's mind._ "

Miranda felt like she'd been punched in the gut.

"How do you know that?" she asked sharply. Her heart was beating even faster now. There was no way that the Shadow Broker could have possibly known about that!

The only people who knew about the control matrix were the Illusive Man and herself. No one within Project Lazarus had the slightest idea that something like that was even being considered.

Hell, Miranda herself had come up with the idea for a control chip only a few weeks ago! She had pitched the idea to the Illusive Man as a way to help them map out Shepard's neural processes more efficiently, though they both were aware about its true purpose.

Unfortunately, the Illusive Man had shot that idea down after only a few moments of consideration. His reasoning was that Shepard had to be brought back exactly as she was to be effective against the Reapers, but Miranda had felt he was being rather short-sighted. Project Lazarus was one of the most expensive undertaking in the history of Cerberus, and it only made sense to protect their investment as best as they could.

So she had gone ahead and created the control matrix anyway, working on it whenever she had a little spare time. Her plan had been to slip it into Shepard's brain shortly before her scheduled awakening. The Illusive Man wouldn't like it, but if the Commander's pysch-profile was any indication, she was sure he would be thanking her later.

But that was a problem for another day. . .

" _My sources are my own, Ms Lawson; but that is unimportant right now. What **is** important is that you must shelve any bright ideas you might be having regarding control chips or any other contingency plans regarding the Commander. Immediately._ "

Miranda felt her ire rise. "I don't think. . ."

" _I don't care what you think, Ms Lawson._ " The Broker almost sounded bored. " _Notice that I have not phrased it as a request. It is a demand: you are to drop any plans involving control chips and Commander Shepard right now._ "

"And if I were to refuse?" Miranda spoke with more confidence that she felt.

" _Then a certain dossier in my possession would find its way into the hands of your father, Henry Lawson. A dossier concerning a certain young woman by the name of. . . Oriana?_ "

Miranda actually jumped to her feet in rage. "You bastard!"

" _Language, Ms Lawson,_ " the Broker said in a mock-admonishing tone.

"I'll kill you!" she snarled, not caring if she was attracting alarmed stares from passers-by. "If you harm one _hair_ on her head, I swear I'll. . ."

" _Please save the death threats, Ms Lawson. Better women that you have tried and failed_ ," the Broker said coldly.

"What do you want?" Miranda hissed, finally regaining control of herself.

" _I just want Commander Shepard to be returned the way she was. Unaltered."_ The Broker's words were eerily reminiscent of the Illusive Man's _. "Do me this one favor Ms Lawson, and I give you my word that your father will never find your little sister._ "

The unspoken " _or else_ " hung in the air, and Miranda knew she was there was nothing else she do right now. "Fine," she ground out.

" _Excellent. Oh, and I don't suppose I have to tell you to keep this from your boss, do I?_ "

"You don't," Miranda spat.

"In that case, I wish you luck with the project. Take care, Ms Lawson."

The call was cut and Miranda watched in despair as every record of the conversation was remotely erased from her omni-tool. She looked out over the Presidium, the bitter taste of defeat lingering in her mouth.

* * *

 ** _Present. Freedom's Progress.  
_**

In hindsight, it was pretty obvious to Miranda why the Broker had been so insistent on not having a control chip installed in Shepard's brain.

 _He planned for this from the very start._

Miranda had taken care to remain extra cautious after that day; and while her paranoia had actually saved her life from Wilson's sabotage of the facility, it had not been enough to prevent them from losing Shepard.

Not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined the Broker from tracking them all the way to Freedom's Progress and taking Shepard away.

 _Yet another failure to lay at my feet. . ._

She shook herself internally. No, now was not the time for emotions.

The Shadow Broker was an incredibly dangerous individual, and Cerberus had to be very careful to go about retrieving their investment from his clutches.

As she started typing away a high-priority message to the Illusive Man, Miranda couldn't help but feel a small amount of concern about the Commander's well-being. She could only imagine what horrors were being inflicted upon the poor woman right now.

* * *

Contrary to Miranda Lawson's expectations, Commander Shepard really wasn't having any horrors inflicted upon her person at all.

In fact, it was pretty much the _opposite_ really.

Shepard blinked bemusedly at her surroundings.

Now, while she didn't have much experience in being taken prisoner (she _was_ an N7 after all) she was _pretty_ sure this wasn't standard procedure for being taken hostage by mercenaries.

She'd expected to have her weapons confiscated the second she boarded their cruiser, she'd expected to be hogtied and tossed straight into the ship's brig, she'd expected to be kept sedated for the duration of her trip. . .

What she _hadn't_ expected was to be led into a slightly cramped lounge of sorts and politely seated around a table, with the Broker's men unmasking themselves and getting comfortable around her.

The sole asari of the group stepped forward. "Welcome to the Avenger, Commander Shepard," she said with a bright smile. "My name is Melenis, and I'll be your concierge for this trip."

Shepard merely gaped in response. The asari was talking to her as though she were travelling first-class on a civilian cruiser.

"Er. . is this how you guys treat all your prisoners?" she asked.

"You're not our prisoner, Commander. You're our guest, and we're only treating you as such."

"So what was all that posturing down there?" Shepard demanded.

"That was for the benefit of your Cerberus companions, Commander," a deep male voice said. Shepard stared as the Broker's spokesperson, an older man in his forties, stepped forward, his hazel eyes looking into hers.

"My apologies if we offended you, Commander Shepard," he said with a courteous bow. "My name is Butler, and I'm the leader of this little group."

"You've already met Melenis. That's Mierin," he pointed at the drell (who was the first female drell Shepard had ever seen), "Erash," the batarian nodded, "Ripper," the krogan grinned, "Sensat," the salarian waved, "Vortash" the turian flared his mandibles in a smile, "and Monteague and Weaver," the last two humans saluted her.

"And there's me," a raspy voice sounded over the comms.

"Grandal Krul, our pilot," Butler finished.

"Your pilot is a volus?" Shepard was surprised.

The drell snorted slightly. "Yeah, that was my first reaction as well. He's pretty good though."

"I'll take your word for it." Shepard said dryly. "So," she fixed Butler with a penetrating look. "Why are you telling me all of your names?"

"Our boss instructed us to treat you as a guest of honor. I was merely being polite," Butler shrugged.

"So I'm not a prisoner here, but a guest?"

"That's right."

"So if I decided I wanted to go to the Alliance instead of meeting with the Broker?" she casually asked.

"We'd be very happy to drop you off at Alliance HQ ourselves." Ignoring Shepard's surprised expression, Butler continued, "Of course, I would personally advise you to meet with the Broker before contacting the Alliance, Commander. A lot has changed in the last two years."

As much as she hated to admit it, the man was right. Contacting Alliance HQ without knowing about the events of the last two years would only end badly for her. At best, they would throw her into a cell for a few months; at worst, they might outright refuse to believe she really was who she claimed to be.

No, the only thing Shepard could do right now was play along with the Broker's schemes. That didn't mean she had to make it easy for them, of course.

"You're being awfully accommodating for a merc, you know that?" she drawled.

"Not all of us are mercenaries, Commander," the asari interjected smoothly. "Some of us used to work as security consultants for private corporations, and almost all of us are former military."

Butler nodded. "Erash over there was a tech expert for the Hegemony, Sensat was an explosives expert with the STG, Mierin was once part of the Hanar ambassador's security detail, Monteague and Vortash are both former C-Sec. . ."

"I get the picture," Shepard said hastily.

"But the important thing here Commander, is that we are _all_ at your disposal," Butler said. "The boss was pretty clear that we are to do everything we can to make you comfortable."

"Why would the Broker care about my comfort anyway?"

"Because, as we've already mentioned, you're a _guest_ , not a prisoner," Butler said patiently. "Also, you should probably know that we don't take our orders directly from the Broker _per se_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shepard frowned.

"We take our orders from the Captain, who's sort of our liaison with the Shadow Broker," Mierin said matter-of-factly. "He's our _real_ boss."

"Yeah? This Captain of yours has a name?"

"He does. But I believe he'd like to introduce himself to you face-to-face," Butler said with a mysterious smile. "Now please, take a seat. We have a long trip ahead."

Shepard nodded thoughtfully, but then something occurred to her. "What about Cerberus? They could be tracking you guys right this moment, you know."

"The ship is shielded to mask the signals of most transmitters. But if that's not enough, we could always scan your armor to remove any tracking devices," Butler suggested.

Shepard bit her lip for a moment. While she didn't trust the Broker's mercs any more than she did Cerberus, there _was_ the fact that they had Tali vouching for them (however indirectly). Not to mention she really didn't like the idea of anyone tracking her movements.

"Do it," she said firmly.

The batarian stepped forward with his omni-tool outstretched. A few minutes later several short EMP bursts had disabled a total of ten transmitters hidden all over her armor, from the inside of the heel of her combat boots to her collar. After ensuring all the bugs were gone, Shepard proceeded to make herself comfortable around the table with the others.

The hours passed slowly after that. Deciding that the best way to spend time was to get as much as much intel as she could, Shepard struck up a conversation with the asari and the female drell. The two ladies were only too happy to share what they knew.

The information they provided left her with mixed emotions. There was the good news. . .

"Councilor Anderson has been doing a pretty great job at the Citadel so far. He's still a military man though," Mierin said. "Nearly balked when some of those Terra Firma guys petitioned to have a statue of you put up in the Presidium. He made it pretty clear that there was no way in hell that you would want to be associated with a bunch of close-minded xenophobes like them, even posthumously."

Shepard couldn't help but grin at that.

. . . and the bittersweet news. . .

"Your mother, Captain Hannah Shepard, was offered a promotion to Admiral, but she turned it down," Melenis explained. "She claimed that the best way to honor your memory was to serve on a ship, not sit on a desk all day. She's currently serving on the SSV Orizaba."

 _That sounds like Mom alright. . ._ Shepard thought with a sad smile. She winced internally when she thought about how much her death must have hurt her mother, and how awkward their reunion was going to be.

 _Hey Mom! Guess what? I'm back from the dead! Oh, and I was resurrected by a bunch of human-supremacist devil-worshipping bastards who also fed a few of my friends to Thresher Maws in the past.  
_

Yup. Very awkward.

. . . . and the horrible news. . . .

"What do you mean the ending of _Galaxy of Fantasy 3_ sucked?" Shepard was outraged.

"It did. The ending was absolutely horrible," Melenis shook her head sadly. "After three games worth of missions, it all came down to a choice between three roads: left, right and center."

"But. . . but what happened to ' _crafting your own adventure_ '? What happened to ' _choosing your own path_ '? What happened to all that hype about a personalized story?" Shepard asked desperately.

"It was all exactly what it sounded like: hype. I mean, sure the missions themselves were pretty enjoyable, and the dialogues were as great as ever. It was pretty fun to play through; but the ending," Mierin sighed. "By Arashu, the ending almost ruined it all!"

"And none of the stuff we did in the previous games counted for anything!?"

"Sadly, no. The only way it did affect the end was maybe give a few extra cutscenes. . . or should I say _visuals_. But no, the ending is the same regardless of whether you played the entire series or just played the third game directly," Melenis stated.

Shepard groaned loudly. "I spent hours queuing up at the store on Earth to buy _Galaxy of Fantasy 1_ when it came out. And I had to use my Spectre clearance to get a copy of the sequel! The waiting list was _that_ huge." Shepard scowled when she remembered all the times she'd spent in her cabin on the Normandy under the pretext of making reports to the Council. She'd been so excited by the end of GOF2 that she couldn't wait for the final installment to come out.

All her dreams ruined, all her hopes utterly destroyed; Shepard swore right then and there that if she ever got her hands on the developers, she would stick her rifle up their. . .

"I think the ending was fine."

All three females froze and slowly, very slowly turned around to regard the speaker.

"Excuse me!?" Melenis asked incredulously.

"I think the ending was pretty neat, actually," Vortash said, fidgeting slightly under their combined gaze.

"You think the ending. . . the _ending_ of GOF3 was actually good?" Mierin repeated slowly, as though she couldn't believe her ears.

"Well yeah. . ."

"Did you play the series from the very beginning, or did you start with the third game?" Shepard inquired.

"Well, I'm kinda new to gaming so. . . yeah, I started with the last one. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Mierin cut him off. "Amateurs," she sighed, shaking her head at the other two women.

"Indeed," Melenis nodded solemnly.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Vortash asked indignantly.

"It means," Shepard shot the turian her best impression of the Donnel Udina Sneer™ #2, which did a great job of conveying one's superiority while simultaneously making the recipient feel like they were less than pond scum. "That your opinions don't matter."

"What!? But. . . I played the game. . ."

"The _last_ game," Mierin said. "You played the last game of a _trilogy_ , and you think that makes you qualified enough to judge?" She also shot him a condescending look. "Just who the hell do you think you are!?"

"But. . but. . ."

"You knew next to nothing about the universe before you started the game," Melenis spoke as though the turian was a particularly slow child. "You had zero emotional involvement with the characters. Most of the jokes referencing the previous games probably went right over your head, not to mention that the survival of a lot of the side-characters depended on the last two games so you definitely didn't have a lot of friends surviving the end of _your_ gameplay."

"I. . ."

"You probably picked up the game just because of the graphics or the combat mechanics," Mierin said haughtily. "Or maybe it was the sex scenes. . . ."

"Which were pretty tame in comparison to the ones in GOF1," Melenis added.

"But. . ."

"Just go away, kid," Shepard shooed away the young turian, who looked about ready to cry. "Come back to the adults table after you've _really_ played the game." She gave a huge fake yawn at the end to emphasize her point.

But since the ship they were in was small, Vortash had no other choice but to stick around and listen to the three females discuss obscure details from the game lore, while throwing in a few snide comments about infant gamers too big for their diapers and occasional mocking laughter. By the end of the day his confidence was so utterly eroded that he deleted his _Galaxy of Fantasy Online_ server account with tears in his eyes, and swore to never play another game as long as he lived.

Vortash learned a cruel lesson about the galaxy that day: never pick an argument with a girl gamer. It just wasn't worth it.

* * *

"Damn, now that's something you don't see every day," Shepard whistled in admiration as she looked out the window.

"Indeed," Butler said. "Here on Hagalaz, the oceans boil during the day and then snap-freeze ten minutes after sundown."

"The Shadow Broker _lives_ in this?" she gestured at the massive ship looming closer to them.

He nodded. "The ship follows the sunset. Completely undetectable in the storm, unless you know where to look."

Shepard narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you sure you should be telling me all this?"

"We were ordered to answer all your questions," he reminded her.

"You just told me the location of your _headquarters_ ," Shepard pointed out.

"I know," he said with a wry grin.

Shepard folded her arms and regarded him seriously. "You do realize that if the Council or the Alliance ordered me to, I wouldn't hesitate for even a second to lead them here; no matter how nicely you've treated me so far."

"Funny you should say that: I told the boss the exact same thing."

"And what did _he_ say?" she pressed.

Butler's grin widened. "That once you hear what the Broker has to say, you won't _want_ to."

Shepard didn't know what to think about that, so she remained silent.

The massive shuttle bay doors opened and their ship was expertly maneuvered in. Shepard moved to join Butler and Melenis at the decontamination chamber.

A few minutes later the three of them were walking through a huge set of corridors. Shepard made sure to memorize everything she saw, focusing on the tiniest of details. At the same time she took care to engage her companions in conversation, lest they catch on to what she was doing.

"Pretty big ship you got here. Where's the rest of your crew?"

"Believe it or not, we don't _have_ a very large crew," Melenis explained. "The technology over here is extremely advanced, and specially made to require very little maintenance."

"Nice," Shepard nodded. "What about. . . ?"

"Best to save your questions for now, Commander," Butler interrupted. "We're here."

Shepard looked ahead and narrowed her eyes.

In her long career with the Alliance, Shepard had come face-to-face with many dangerous individuals. Quite a few of them had been turians.

Yet, she had only ever known two turians who had made her nervous. One was Nihlus Kyrik, who she had known was a dangerous man by his reputation, even if she never did get a chance to see him in action; the other was Saren Arterius, perhaps the most fearsome opponent she'd ever fought against so far.

Staring at the masked turian waiting for them, she couldn't help but wonder if she should consider adding him to the list.

He wore the same kind of black and white armor as the rest, though his had a slight metallic sheen to it. He had a sniper rifle and an assault rifle on his back, and his arms were hanging casually at his side.

But Shepard wasn't fooled for a second. Her instincts were telling her that this man's skill was on a whole different level from the others. She'd be lucky to get out of a fight with him with all her limbs still attached.

"Captain," Butler said as both he and Melenis shot off a crisp salute. "Reporting with Commander Shepard, as per you orders."

"Good job, all of you," his voice was scrambled by the same electronic synthesizer Butler had used on Freedom's Progress. "You're dismissed. Commander Shepard, please follow me."

He turned on his heel and walked away. Shepard frowned but did as she was told.

"So, who're _you_ supposed to be anyway?" she asked.

"I am the right hand of the Shadow Broker. You can call me Archangel," he replied.

" _Archangel_ , huh?" she snorted slightly. "Nice name. All dramatic and everything."

"Thank you."

Shepard frowned again. That voice. . . the inflection seemed a little familiar, but she couldn't tell for sure.

She decided to try again. "So, what does the Broker want with me anyway?"

"I'm sure the Broker will be happy to answer that in person," there was the barest hint of amusement behind the synthesized voice.

Shepard frowned some more, wishing for the umpteenth time she'd paid better attention at those classes about turian sub-harmonics back at Alliance Academy.

"Hey listen. . !"

"We're here," Archangel abruptly said as they entered a large room.

Shepard's first impression was of a large hall rather than a room. It was circular in shape, the ceiling above them shimmering with a strange kind of light. Glowing computer panels adorned the walls, looking slightly eerie in the almost complete darkness.

She squinted slightly. She could make out a set of stairs leading to the back, where a large number of terminals were clustered together on a platform. Before the platform was a huge table, and Shepard could barely make out the silhouette of a person sitting behind it.

Taking care to regulate her breathing lest she give her nervousness away, Commander Shepard boldly stepped forward.

"So, you're the famous Shadow Broker?" she asked.

The lights immediately came on and Shepard threw up one hand to shield her eyes, taking care not to blink. Her eyes widened at the sight of the smiling figure at the desk.

"Shepard, it is good to see you again."

Her jaw dropped.

" _Liara!?_ "

* * *

 **AN: And the big reveal is here at last! No bonus points for guessing who Archangel is ;)  
**

 **BTW, the conversation between the gamer girls and Vortash is an almost word-for-word recounting of the one between two of my friends who're currently studying abroad. If you're reading this guys, I hope you liked that scene.  
**

 **Next up: A long-awaited reunion between friends; and Shepard is brought up to speed on the events of the last two years.**

 **Stay tuned :)**


	5. Reunions and Revelations

"Liara? Liara- _freaking_ -T'Soni, what the heck are you _doing_ here!?" Shepard exclaimed.

"Well, I _am_ the Shadow Broker so naturally I would. . ." she frowned slightly and turned to the turian. "You didn't tell her, did you?" she said accusingly.

"Oh come on, why would I want to spoil the surprise?" The easily-recognizable chuckle made Shepard's heart leap with joy.

"Garrus!"

The familiar face of Garrus Vakarian grinned at her. "Shepard, it's great to see you again."

"Garrus!" In three quick steps Shepard closed the distance between them and threw her arms around her best friend.

"Spirits, it's good to have you have back," his chest rumbled, long arms wrapping around her affectionately.

"Yeah, you too," Shepard beamed up at him, unable to believe this was really happening.

 _Oh god, if this is a dream I don't want to wake up. . ._

She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, hands still wrapped tightly around his torso. "You're here. . ." she said thickly, feeling her eyes grow slightly moist. "You're. . . really here. . ."

Garrus reached out with one long talon and gently brushed one lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm right where I was always meant to be, Shepard," his sub-harmonics pulsed with an unfamiliar emotion. "By your side. . ."

Shepard could only give a watery smile in response.

"Ahem. . ."

They started slightly and looked at a bemused looking Liara standing nearby.

"I'm still waiting over here. Would you two like some privacy before. . . ?"

"Oh come here, you. . ." Shepard broke away from Garrus and pulled the slightly shorter asari into a fierce hug.

"I am glad to see you're alright, Shepard," Liara said warmly.

"Glad to see you too," Shepard stepped back and examined her friend with a critical stare. "And tell me, just how _does_ one go from being a simple archaeologist to the most powerful information broker in the galaxy?"

"It is a long story: involving several spectacular firefights, thrilling chases across the galaxy, salarian intelligence and a hanar prostitute with camera implants."

Shepard blinked in shock. "Seriously?"

"No," Liara smirked. "But the truth is boring."

Flanged laughter came from behind them. "You took out the Shadow Broker in a fight to the death; how is _any_ of that supposed to be boring?"

Shepard turned around to see a male drell limping towards them.

Liara made the introductions. "Shepard, this is Feron. He helps me run the Broker network."

"Commander Shepard," the drell bowed as much as his disability would allow him. "It is a pleasure."

"Likewise," Shepard smiled. "So, anyone going to tell me what's going on here?"

"We will, but first you should go and refresh yourself, Shepard. You look dead on your feet," Liara said.

"I'm fine!" Shepard protested. "I need answers a lot more than I need rest. . ."

"Shepard," Garrus interjected smoothly. "When was the last time you ate anything? Or had some sleep?"

"Not since I woke up, but. . ."

"Then you should relax a little for now. No listen," he raised his arms in a placating gesture at the stubborn set of her jaw. "Go take a nice bath, grab a few hours of sleep. I promise we'll answer all your questions over dinner, okay?"

A part of her really wanted to dig in her heels and demand answers, but the mention of a hot bath, sleep and food did a great job of reminding her of just how tired she really was. Shepard sighed in defeat and proceeded to follow Liara out of the hall.

* * *

After taking a nice long shower and spending a few hours napping on a bed large enough for ten people, a much refreshed Commander Shepard made her way to join her friends for dinner. She was dressed in loose fitting slacks and a really cool-looking N7 hoodie (where the hell did Liara _get_ one of those?), her red locks splayed messily over her head as she entered a tastefully decorated dining hall. . .

. . . only to find another pleasant surprise waiting for her.

"Is that. . . is that what I think it is?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Oh yeah," Garrus grinned. "A fine grilled steak made of freshly imported meat from a cow, bred naturally on the fields of earth." He tilted his head to the side. "Whatever the heck a cow is supposed to be. . . ."

"And that. . ." she pointed a trembling hand at the pile of cheeseburgers on a nearby plate. "Are those. . . ?"

"All for you, Shepard," Liara said with an amused look.

Shepard cut a piece of the grilled steak and almost reverentially brought it to her mouth. She gave a small moan of delight at the exquisite taste.

Tears of happiness flowed freely from Commander Shepard's eyes as she looked at her friends. "You two are the best friends a girl could ask for, you know that?"

"Thank you," Liara said primly.

"I guess it's true what they say," Garrus flared his mandibles in a wide grin. "Everyone has their weaknesses."

Feron coughed slightly, trying and failing to suppress his laughter. "Let us pray that the Reapers never find out about this, or they might just decide to bribe the Commander with food."

"Hey, I'm not going to sell out the whole galaxy for a steak, y'know!" Shepard said indignantly.

 _Not a single steak, anyway. Might consider it if there's a pile of them, though. . ._

Then something hit her. "Wait a minute, how do _you_ know about the Reapers anyway?" she fixed the drell with a suspicious look.

"We were actually going to get to that. But first I have to know," Liara put her hands on the table and leaned forward. "How much has Cerberus told you about the last two years, Shepard?"

"They didn't tell me a damn thing!" Shepard scowled. "The only thing I managed to squeeze out of Lawson and Taylor was that their Lazarus cell was responsible for bringing me back. Then they took me to the Illusive Bastard who basically arm-twisted me into going and checking out Freedom's Progress!"

"Did they tell you anything else?" Liara pressed. "Did they tell you, for instance, how they managed to get hold of your body?"

"Well, no. . ." Shepard frowned. "Though they did mention that the Shadow Broker had tried to sell my body off to the Collectors." Her frown deepened when she saw the two of them exchange uneasy glances. "Something you're not telling me, guys?"

Garrus shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Shepard. . . you have to understand. . . we. . ."

"You what?" Shepard narrowed her eyes at both her friends. "What the hell did you guys do?"

"Well. . . we sorta rescued your body from the Broker's men. . ."

"Well that's good, isn't it?"

Garrus sighed. "The reason Cerberus got your body. . . . was us, Shepard. _We_ gave your body to them."

"You _what_!?" Shepard roared, jumping to her feet.

"Shepard, please. . ."

"How could you!?" Shepard demanded, looking between them both. "How could you hand me over to those scumbags of all people? Do you even _know_ what they did to my friends from the Academy? All those marines at Chasca, at Akuze!?"

Garrus and Liara had the grace to look ashamed.

"Oh hell. . ." Shepard sighed and ran her hand through her hair in frustration.

"So what. . is this supposed to be about the whole Reaper thing? You guys wanted me back to help fight Sovereign's buddies. . . is that it?" she demanded.

"Goddess, no!" Liara cried. "Shepard, how could you even think. . . ?"

"If it was about the fight against the Reapers, Shepard, we would have cremated your remains instead of letting anyone get their hands over them," Garrus said seriously. "Look. . . Cerberus told us they had the technology and resources to pull it off, and we saw a chance to get back our friend. If our situations were reversed, what would _you_ have done?"

Shepard winced guiltily. Garrus did have a very valid point. If it had been one of them in her place, Shepard would have done everything she could to get them back; even if it meant making a deal with the devil. The Normandy's ground team was probably the closest of friends she'd ever had.

"Sorry about that," she muttered quietly. "It's just. . . all this is a little overwhelming, y'know. . ."

"We understand, Shepard." Liara squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture. "By the Goddess, we would be worried about you if you _weren't_ upset after hearing that!"

"Yeah, but I still shouldn't have said that. I mean. . . whatever it is you guys did, it's only thanks to that that I'm sitting here with _this_ right." She waved a forkful of steak in the air.

Garrus gave a weak chuckle. "Glad you see it that way."

"Alright," Shepard sighed. "So you guys gave me to Cerberus. But that still doesn't explain where the Broker comes into all this."

"It was the Collectors who hired the Shadow Broker to retrieve your body," Liara explained. "You are aware that the Collectors are suspected of working for the Reapers, aren't you?"

"So I've been told; but I still find that pretty hard to believe. I mean, what would the Reapers want with my body anyway?" Shepard asked.

"Who knows how the mind of an AI works?" Garrus shrugged. "Maybe they wanted to study you and find out how you managed to defeat Saren despite all his cybernetic implants, maybe they were just curious about humans in general and thought of you as the perfect specimen, maybe they wanted to get some twisted form of revenge. . ."

Shepard nodded thoughtfully and glanced at Liara, who was biting her bottom lip. "What do _you_ think, Liara?"

"Well. . ." she said hesitantly. "I have a theory. . . just a theory, you understand; but it is possible that the Reapers wanted to use you the same way they used Saren."

"Meaning?"

"Saren was their prophet," Liara stated. "In a manner of speaking, his job was to herald the arrival of the Reapers to put an end to our cycle. But despite his best efforts _you_ stopped him, Shepard. Given that the Reapers are, at their core, AIs. . . it is possible that they might have judged you a superior specimen and. . . well. . . planned to replace him with _you_."

A chill went down the Commander's spine. "You're saying. . . they wanted to turn me into _another_ Saren?"

Liara merely nodded.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Shepard mumbled, pushing her plate away.

A tense silence followed that ominous conversation. "So. . ." Garrus coughed. "Ahem. . . anyway, the disgusting intentions of giant metal cuttlefish aside, once Liara and I found out what the Broker was planning we hired Feron here to help us get you back."

The drell nodded. "I was tasked by the Broker to retrieve you, but after discovering his plans and finding out about the Reapers' goals, I defected to Garrus and Liara's side."

"Feron betrayed the Broker at a critical moment, and we managed to snatch you away from his enforcers' clutches," Liara continued. "Unfortunately, he ended up being captured by the Broker."

"Captured?" Shepard frowned slightly, recalling the drell's limp. "Oh god, they tortured you, didn't they?" she whispered.

Feron bowed his head for a moment. "They did. Fortunately, my torment was short-lived. Garrus and Liara arrived just in time to save my life," he smiled.

"Of course we did, Feron," Liara said softly. "There was no way we were going to leave you behind after what you did for us."

"Damn right! Getting some overdue revenge on the Broker was simply a bonus," Garrus said with a savage grin.

"We managed to deduce the location of the Broker's hideout, and we hit it with everything we had," Liara declared.

"The Broker must've had a lot of men here. You two took on them all by yourselves?" Shepard asked in disbelief.

"Of course not!" Garrus waved a three-fingered hand airily in the air. "We're good, Shepard; but even we're not _that_ good. We brought help."

"Yeah? Who?" Shepard had resumed eating by now.

"Let's just say that a certain krogan king decided to lend us a hand," he smirked.

"Wrex?" Shepard blinked in surprise. "You guys brought _Wrex_ with you?"

"And four trustworthy krogan from his clan," Liara smiled. "Between the seven of us, we made short work of the Broker's forces."

"Damn! You guys get to have all the fun," Shepard groused.

"Hardly," Garrus scoffed. "Fighting the Broker's mercs was fun. Fighting the Broker himself. . . not so much."

"Yeah? What species _was_ the Broker? Wait, don't tell me: he was a krogan."

"If only it were that easy," Liara sighed. "He was a yahg, Shepard."

"A _what_ now?" Shepard frowned.

Liara simply fired up a projection from her omni-tool, and the Commander nearly choked on her food.

"Fuck! What the hell _is_ that thing!?" she exclaimed, scooting away from the holo of the hideous creature.

"A yahg. They're a pre-spaceflight race from the world of Parnack," Liara explained. "They were discovered in the year 2125 CE, though their highly aggressive nature and a tendency to eat everything and everyone they came across led to their home-world being declared off-limits by the Council."

"How the hell did something like _that_ become a goddamn information broker?"

"They are surprisingly intelligent and highly adaptable," Liara shrugged. "I don't know why the Broker ordered one to be captured; either way it was smart enough to kill the Broker back then and ran the network successfully for the next six decades."

"Damn. I don't know whether that's scary or impressive as hell!" Shepard shook her head slowly. "I don't envy you guys going toe-toe-toe with _that_ ugly bastard."

"You wouldn't," Garrus groaned, rolling his shoulders. "Damn, I never came that close to being eaten in my whole life; and I've worked for _you_ Shepard, so that's saying something."

"Watch it, turian!" she jokingly tossed a small piece of steak at him and turned back to Liara.

"Alright, so you guys managed to take down the most notorious information broker in the galaxy. Then you decided to. . . what. . . take it over?"

Liara nodded. "Garrus suggested that we would be better off using the Broker's network ourselves rather than simply destroying it. We'd need the resources for when the Reapers finally decide to attack. Not to mention that it helped us monitor Cerberus while they worked on you."

"So that's how you went from being a simple archaeologist to the most powerful information broker in the galaxy, huh?" Shepard smirked. "Way to go, Dr T'Soni."

The young asari blushed slightly. "I wouldn't have managed any of this without both of them helping me. Garrus takes care of the more unsavory parts of the brokerage, and Feron has been guiding me in the business for the last year. Without them I. . ."

"Yeah, right." Garrus snorted. "Pull the other one, T'Soni. We've both seen how good you are at the whole Shadow Broker thing."

"It is true," Feron smiled. "You do have a natural flair for information trafficking, Liara."

"It's not like that!" she protested. "I spent a whole decade at the University learning data mining and analysis, so. . . ."

"Oh, it's not just the whole data thing, Liara," Garrus interjected. "You're pretty good at the whole menacing act too. The complete Shadow Broker package: plotting, threatening, blackmailing. . ."

"Get out of here," Shepard chuckled. " _Liara_ blackmailed somebody?"

"Oh, you have no idea, Shepard. The good doctor's a natural at scaring the scales off of people," Garrus smirked. "You should've seen her going at it with that Miranda Lawson woman. Spirits, I nearly crapped my pants at the end." He gave a mock-shudder to emphasize his point.

"Garrus Vakarian!" Liara began hotly. "You know perfectly well I was only reading out the lines we came up with together. . ."

"Whoa, whoa. . . back up there for a sec! What's this about Lawson?" Shepard asked.

"We found out that Miranda Lawson was planning to put a control chip in your brain, so we took some measures to. . . dissuade her of the notion," Feron answered.

"Understatement if I ever heard one," Garrus snorted. "Liara was furious. I mean so were we, but Liara was so pissed off she made that yahg look like a pet varren. I don't think Lawson's had a good night's sleep since then."

"Forgive me if I tend to take a dim view of people who try to control my friends through such unethical and underhanded means," Liara crossed her arms and sniffed slightly.

"See what I mean," Garrus sniggered.

Shepard exhaled loudly, realizing how closely she'd dodged the bullet back there. "I thought that bitch was trying to get under my skin when she mentioned that control chip. Thanks a ton, Liara."

"Please don't mention it, Shepard. That was the whole reason we took over the network after all."

"Yeah sure, you keep telling yourself that, T'Soni," Shepard grinned. "I bet you really enjoy pushing everyone around, huh?"

"Oh she does," Garrus agreed. "What was that the other day, Feron? With that businessman from Ilium?"

" _Have you ever faced an asari commando unit before? Few humans have_ ," Feron gave a strangely accurate impression of Liara's voice.

"Oh, she did _not_ say that!" Shepard laughed.

"For the last time, I was simply repeating a threat my mother used very often!" Liara protested. "And I sound nothing like that!"

"Yeah, you sound much scarier, with that synthetic Broker voice and all," Garrus said sardonically.

"Oh, I just don't believe this," Shepard wiped a fake tear out of one eye. "Our poor little Liara grew up so fast."

"I know. It feels like only yesterday that we popped her out of that Prothean bubble," Garrus grinned.

"And destroyed half the planet in the process. . ." Shepard chortled.

"Remember the first time we met her." Garrus spread out his hands and spoke in a ridiculously high-pitched voice. " _Help me, please! I'm trapped in here. . ._ "

"Goddess, you two are simply unbelievable," Liara sighed at the pair who were positively howling with laughter. "You do realize I'm older than both your ages put together, don't you?"

"Awwww, look at that Garrus! We made our little blue all angry," Shepard said in a mock-baby voice.

Liara merely folded her arms and arched a painted eyebrow at her imperiously. "April 11, 2170," she said in a clear voice.

The grin melted off Shepard's face faster than you could say 'Reaper'. "H-How the hell do you know about t-that?" she stammered weakly.

"Shadow Broker," Liara reminded her.

With lightning speed Shepard jumped up from her chair and threw herself forward. . . .

. . . landing right before Liara's feet.

"Oh Lady Liara, mistress of the Prothean research and greatest of all archaeologists in the galaxy, forgive your humble servant for her impertinent behavior." She ground her forehead into the floor, prostrating before the asari as though she were a goddess incarnate. "Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. . . ."

"Ummm. . . Shepard? Are you. . . feeling okay?" Garrus blinked in confusion at the sudden change in her demeanor.

"Silence, turian filth!" she snapped. "You do not speak before the Lady unless spoken to!"

Now Garrus was convinced that the Commander had hurt her brain somehow. "Shepard, what are you. . . ?"

"I said silence!" she screamed, grabbing the front of his armor and pulling him almost nose-to-nose. "One more word out of your beak and I swear. . ."

"Shepard. . !"

"Lady Liara, shall I rip off this fool's mandibles and place them at your feet!?" Shepard bellowed, the deranged glint in her eyes actually scaring the turian now.

"A tempting offer, but I must decline," Liara stated. "I take it that I have made my point, Shepard?"

"Yes, mistress. . ."

"Then I must ask you to let Garrus go and return to your chair. We shall speak no more of this matter now."

"Right," Shepard obeyed. "Uhh. . . about whatever information you might have. . ."

"I think I'll hold on to it for now. In case you need to be reminded again," Liara beamed at her.

"Of course you do. . ." Shepard muttered sullenly.

Feron, who had been observing the whole exchange silently until now, made a mental note to never get on Liara's bad side. Ever.

Anyone who could scare the crap out of Commander Shepard was not someone he wanted to mess with.

* * *

"Hey Liara! I just remembered something."

"What is it, Shepard?"

The Commander turned away from the terminal she was browsing to fix her friend with a piercing stare. "When I asked the Illusive Man about you, he told me you were working as an information broker. If he knows that, how come he hasn't figured out that you're _the_ information broker?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Liara smirked. "Pull up my dossier on that terminal, would you?"

"You have your _own_ dossier?" Shepard raised an eyebrow.

"More like the one the previous Broker prepared about me," Liara shrugged.

Shepard flicked through the terminal. "Liara T'Soni. . . here we are. Hmmm. . . former archaeologist. . . . information broker. Hang on. . . currently operating from Nos Astra, Ilium!?" Shepard frowned.

"It's a cover I created for myself," Liara declared. "As far as the galaxy is concerned, Liara T'Soni is one of Nos Astra's most successful information brokers. She also seems to have a rather unhealthy obsession with the Shadow Broker."

"I'm sure she does," Shepard said wryly. "But how do you maintain your cover anyway?"

"I divide up my time between here and Ilium," Liara shrugged. "While it may not be easily apparent, the true power of the Broker's network lies in its agents, not its fancy hardware. As long as I have a terminal and a connection to a few specialized servers I can easily run the whole operation from my office in Nos Astra."

"And all the time, nobody suspects anything. Nice. Wait. . hang on," Shepard peered closely at the terminal. "It says here that a Broker operative has been assigned to spy on you."

"That's correct. Nyxeris, my assistant, is an operative known as the Observer."

"You planted your _own_ operative to spy on _yourself_?" Shepard asked her incredulously.

"It would have looked more suspicious if I hadn't. Besides, who would ever believe that a rival broker that the Shadow Broker is spying on is actually the Broker herself?" Liara smirked.

"Remind me to never play chess with you," Shepard said in an awed voice.

"I will, though I am partial to Kepesh-Yakshi myself."

"Yeah, whatever that is." Shepard yawned and casually leaned against the terminal. "Okay, so there's a pretty low chance that you'll ever be discovered as the Broker. Who else knows?"

"Well Wrex does obviously, but he knows how to keep a secret." Garrus spoke up from where he was oiling his sniper rifle. "Oh, and we brought Tali into the fold a few months ago."

"I'm pretty sure she would have figured it out herself given enough time. We just thought it would be better to tell her directly," Liara added.

"Good idea," Shepard nodded. "What about Ash and Kaidan?"

"We've left them out of the loop for now. Their loyalty to the Alliance would mean putting them in a very awkward position if they found out about the Broker," Garrus explained.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Shepard conceded. It also went unsaid that Kaidan and Ashley were the two people least likely to keep a secret of this magnitude. They were both still inexperienced and had a tendency to see things in black and white more than the others.

"What about that gang of yours? Butler and the rest. . . where did you pick them up again?"

"Butler knows, since he's the leader of the team in my absence. As for where I picked them up. . ." Garrus smirked. "It was on Omega."

"Omega!? What the hell were you doing on _that_ hellhole?" Shepard inquired.

"It's a long story. . . something for when we have more time on our hands and little less to do," Garrus said as he got to his feet.

"Yeah, yeah. . . I get it. But are you sure you can trust them?"

"With my life," he said without skipping a beat, causing Shepard to wonder whether he'd worked with any of them before. Where else would such confidence come from?

"If you're sure. Now regarding these colony abductions: I'm hoping you guys have some ideas because I got nothing." She folded her arms and looked at both of them expectantly.

"We haven't exactly been idle the past year and a half", Liara said with an enigmatic smile. "We have made preparations of our own to deal with the threat of both the Collectors and Cerberus. We. . . ."

"Oh, oh! Me, me!" Garrus raised his hand excitedly and jumped up and down on the balls of his feet, like a child in a classroom eager to give an answer.

Liara sighed. "Yes, Garrus. You can say it."

Garrus puffed out his chest and flared his mandibles in a wide grin. "We have a cunning plan."

Shepard groaned and buried her head into her hands. Why, oh why did she have a strong feeling that she was going to absolutely _hate_ this 'cunning' plan?

And why the hell had she let Ashley pick that TV show for movie night on the Normandy back then?

* * *

 **AN: Everybody does stupid stuff on their sixteenth birthday party they wouldn't want anyone to find out. Commander Shepard is no exception ;)**

 **I plan on writing a separate story showing Garrus and Liara's adventures from the last two years, covering the events of ME Redemption. For now, I included only the short version in this chapter since I don't want to distract the readers from the ME2 storyline.**

 **A huge thanks to all my readers who have reviewed the story so far. I'd reply to all your reviews personally if I could do, but I just moved to a new city and am relying almost completely on free wifi right now.**

 **Next up: Garrus and Liara explain their "cunning" plan. Meanwhile, a certain asari bartender gets a visit from a mysterious messenger.**

 **Stay tuned :)**


	6. Cunning Plans

_**Present. Nos Astra, Ilium.**_

A lone asari sidled up to the dimly lit bar and perched herself on a stool.

"What'll be it?" the asari bartender grunted without looking up.

"Thessian Moonlight."

"Comin' right up." The bartender started mixing together liquor from bottles of various colors, finishing with a cyan-colored drink that she plopped down before her customer.

The asari took a small sip from the glass. "Exquisite," she murmured softly.

"Welcome to Eternity, best bar this side of Ilium." The deadpan manner in which the bartender delivered this suggested that it was something she didn't believe herself.

The customer chose not to call her out on that, electing to glance around the lounge instead. "Slow day?"

"Nah. It's the only time of the day in Nos Astra when the crowd thins out," the bartender shrugged. A few moments later she almost absent-mindedly asked, "So, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

The younger asari smiled briefly. "Just here to meet up with a friend."

The bartender gave a gruff chuckle, glancing at the customer's casual attire. "Yeah, I can imagine the kind of friends a Spectre would have in _this_ place."

Tela Vasir smirked over the rim of her glass. "Good instincts. . . . for an old woman, anyway."

"You don't get to live as long as I have without learning a few tricks, honey," Aethyta said, leaning casually against the bar and looking the younger asari dead in the eye.

"Can't say I believe that, seeing as you actually let a Spectre get this close to you."

The low sound of a heavy pistol charging up caused Vasir to stiffen instinctively. She looked down at the spot where the matriarch was holding the weapon under the bar, not close enough to outright kill her but definitely close enough to bypass her kinetic shields and barrier.

Aethyta grinned fiercely. "Like I said: you don't get to live as long as I have without learning a few tricks."

The smile that spread over Vasir's tattooed face now was genuine. "Oh, you're good."

"Thanks. Now, you gonna tell me why you're at my bar?"

"I'm not here to cause any trouble," Vasir said quietly, making sure to keep her hands on top of the bar.

"Yeah, like that's supposed to be really comforting," Aethyta snorted. "Trouble follows you goddess-damned Spectres around wherever you go!"

"Let me phrase that better: I'm not here to cause trouble for _you_."

"I'll believe that when I see it. Now tell me," Aethyta narrowed her eyes. "Who sent you here? Those blue bitches from Thessia?"

"I don't work for the Matriarch Council. I work for the Citadel Council," Vasir reminded her. "I was sent here by an old friend."

Aethyta's brow furrowed, before her eyes widened in realization. "Tevos sent you?"

"Indeed. I also bring greetings from the Commander of the Citadel Fleet."

"Lidanya too, huh. Must be some important shit going down for them to look me up."

"You have a real gift for understatements, you know that?" Vasir said dryly. "Tell me," she leaned forwards, eyes locked with the matriarch. "What do you know about the recent human colony abductions in the Terminus Systems?"

"Not much. Heard a few people talking about it since a few months ago. Something about entire colonies just up and disappearing." Aethyta gave her a wary look. "You're saying they're being _abducted_?"

"They up and disappear in the middle of the night, leaving all their belongings behind and signs of a little struggle. I'd say that qualifies as an abduction, wouldn't you?"

"Who the heck would be good enough to kidnap an entire colony?" Aethyta wondered.

Vasir shrugged. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you."

"Whatever. I'm still waiting for the part where any of this is supposed to be my damned business," the matriarch said snarkily.

"That part I know." Slowly the Spectre reached into the inside of her jacket and pulled out a small holo. "Take a look."

Aethyta glanced at the picture, showing three soldiers clustered around a small shuttle. "The fuck am I looking at?"

"It's a snapshot from a video that was leaked to the STG shortly after the latest abduction on Freedom's Progress. This," she pointed at the strange symbol on the shuttle, "belongs to a human-supremacist organization called Cerberus."

"Huh. Humans abducting humans. Figures."

"We don't know conclusively if they _are_ behind this or not; and frankly, at this point we don't even care. _This_ however," she pointed at the person standing in the middle, "is something that actually does concern us."

Aethyta's brow furrowed in thought. "Isn't that the famous Alliance hero? Shepard or something?"

Vasir nodded.

"But she's dead right. Died two years ago, if I remember correctly. There was a funeral and everything."

"Right once again. I should give you a gold star."

Aethyta snorted. "Save it, sweetheart. I'm still waiting for the part that's supposed to concern me."

"It doesn't concern you, but it _does_ concern your daughter."

Aethyta's mood darkened immediately. "The fuck does this all have to do with Liara?" she snapped.

"Your daughter worked with Commander Shepard two years ago, and she had a brief run in with Cerberus recently. What, you didn't know about the last part?" Vasir scoffed at the expression of disbelief on the older asari's face. "I thought you were here to keep an eye on your kid?"

"I only arrived on Nos Astra about a year ago to keep an eye on my daughter thanks to those bitches on Thessia!" Aethyta spat. "Bad enough that they took the kid's inheritance away, now they want me to spy on her so that she doesn't mess up their perfect little world!"

"Well, you have to admit their paranoia has some merit. Especially with things like this." Vasir gestured to the holo lying on

Aethyta slammed her hands on the bar and leaned forward. "My daughter is _not_ a traitor to her people!" she hissed.

The Spectre was unfazed by the gesture, however. "I never said she was. But even _you_ have to admit, things aren't looking good for her. Take it from someone who knows: Cerberus is trouble, no matter how indirectly you're associated with them."

The matriarch's shoulders sagged slightly at the blunt statement.

"If it helps, Councillor Tevos doesn't believe it, either."

Aethyta shot her a questioning look, but Vasir simply shook her head. "It's not my story to tell. Heck, there're still parts that don't make sense to me. But something big is going on, something dangerous. . . something that tells me all these human colony abductions are just the tip of the iceberg."

"What do you want me to do?" Aethyta asked tiredly.

"Go to the Citadel and meet with the Councillor. She's got a lot of things you need to see for yourself."

"Hey, I can't just up and leave, you know!" the matriarch protested. "Liara. . ."

". . . is a big girl and more than capable of taking care of herself." Vasir privately thought that anyone crazy enough to wage war against the Broker and still remain alive could easily hold her own against the Thessian Council. Those old crones were all talk and little action.

"Look, I was ordered by the Councillor to deliver a message and I did. What you do with it is up to you, but I suggest you find a way to get your ass to the Citadel as quickly as you can."

In a single smooth motion, Vasir drained her glass and got to her feet. "Something big is coming, and we can't afford to have our elders wiping glasses in bars when the entire galaxy is at stake."

She turned around and walked away, casually disappearing into the crowds of Nos Astra.

Aethyta bit her lip in thought and glanced at the holo. She really didn't know much about Liara's connection to this Shepard woman, apart from the report that she'd been part of the first human Spectre's crew two years ago. She'd also been the one to deliver Nezzie's body to Thessia back then.

Her eyes clouded slightly when she remembered her last partner. Benezia's death had hit home harder than she'd imagined it would, and the guilt of not being there for her estranged daughter was what drove her to agree to go undercover on behalf of the Thessian Council, despite her abject hatred for the senile old matriarchs.

Aethyta sighed and proceeded to wipe another glass. Looks like her plans for a quiet retirement on Ilium while watching over her daughter were all shot to hell now. Nothing else to do now but pay a visit to Tevos and Lidanya, and figure out just what the fuck was going on with the rest of the galaxy.

She glanced absent-mindedly at the spot where the Spectre had been a few minutes ago, and froze.

 _That bitch! She left without paying for her drink!_

Matriarch Aethyta swore as she started wiping another glass angrily. Fucking Spectres! Nothing good ever came of dealing with those bastards!

* * *

 _ **Present. Minuteman station.**_

Miranda Lawson stormed into the Control room.

"Well? What is it?" she snapped at the officer in charge of communications.

"W-We intercepted a small ship headed towards our station a few minutes ago, Ma'am," he mumbled nervously. Miranda's eyes widened slightly at the implication that someone had actually located their base. "Go on."

"I-It's. . . I-It's Commander Shepard, Ma'am."

"What!?"

"See for yourself," he gestured at the controls. Miranda marched over to the comms and keyed it in. "This is the Minuteman station. Identify yourself. Over."

A moment later a rather familiar voice came through. "Lawson? Is that you?"

"Shepard!?" Miranda was stunned.

For the last four days the entire staff of the Lazarus cell had driven themselves insane trying to track down the elusive Commander, and now she was back? Of her _own_ accord?

And just how in the hell did she know where Minuteman station _was_ , anyway?

"It's me. Mind giving me permission to land?"

"Oh. . . oh yes, of course. But how are you. . .?"

"I'll explain everything," she said crisply. "And alert the Illusive Man for me, will you? I have a friend who needs to speak with him."

"A friend? Who?" Miranda narrowed her eyes suspiciously. This was beginning to sound like a trap.

"Look, do you want me back or not? I can always just turn the ship around and fly back to the Alliance, y'know."

"What. . . no, that will not be necessary Commander!" Miranda said hastily. The Illusive Man had looked ready to kill somebody when he found out that Shepard had been taken by the Broker back on Freedom's Progress; he would skin her alive if he found out that Shepard had been right at their doorstep and Miranda had refused her entry.

No, there was no other choice. She _had_ to let Shepard in.

 _Even if it **is** a trap. . ._

She quickly sent her the co-ordinates. "You're cleared to dock at bay A5, Commander. Sending co-ordinates."

Miranda then shut off the comms and turned to the nervous-looking officers waiting for her commands. "Instruct Security Chief Taylor to meet me in docking bay A5," she barked. "Tell him to bring backup. We may have a potential Code Orange."

And she strode away, wondering just what new trouble the redheaded Commander had brought to her doorstep.

* * *

Shepard keyed in the co-ordinates and sat back heavily. "Well, that's that. You ready for this?"

The turian sitting beside her snorted. "Please Shepard, I was born ready."

She grinned wryly at him. "You know there's no turning back now. No matter happens."

Garrus reached out with a three-fingered hand and patted her own. "We'll be fine. Just stick to the plan."

"I know," Shepard nodded, watching out the window as the station drew closer.

* * *

 _ **20 hours ago. Shadow Broker base, Hagalaz.**_

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Shepard exclaimed. "After all the trouble you guys went through to get me out of Cerberus' hands, you want me to go _back_ to those varren-humping bastards?"

"For starters, yes," Liara answered primly.

"Oh hell no. No fucking way in hell am I going back to those creeps!" Shepard declared.

"Shepard. . . ."

"We should go to the Alliance," she continued firmly. "The Alliance and the Council need to know that I'm back."

"I'm afraid that's no longer an option," Liara stated.

"Why not?"

Liara simply waved her omni-tool at one of the consoles in response, causing an image to flicker on it. "This was intercepted by our agents a few hours ago."

"What the hell. . . ?" Shepard gaped at the short video which looked like it had been taken from the surveillance camera of a shuttle. It showed Shepard and the two Cerberus operatives, Lawson and Taylor, disembarking onto Freedom's Progress.

"Cerberus leaked this footage to various sources across the galaxy mere minutes after Garrus' team picked you up from the colony," Liara explained. "We did our best to plug as many of the leaks as we could, but we couldn't get them all."

"Who else has seen this by now?" Shepard felt like she was going to be sick.

"If I had to guess, the Alliance and the STG. Cerberus has plenty of spies firmly entrenched within the former and nothing of significance ever gets past the latter."

"Cerberus has spies _inside_ the Alliance!?"

Garrus snorted derisively. "Two years ago, Cerberus' information network rivalled that of the Shadow Broker. They've taken a lot of damage since then, but their informants within the Alliance haven't been compromised by much."

"Great. Just _fucking-a_ great!" Shepard snarled. "Now the Alliance probably thinks that I faked my death all those years ago and have been working for those bastards since then!"

"That certainly does seem to be their intention," Liara said grimly. "Notice the way the camera focuses on the Cerberus logo on the shuttle. That and the prominent manner in which the logo is displayed on the operatives' uniforms. . . it is clear that this was planned beforehand."

"They set me up! I thought sending me to Freedom's Progress was their attempt at guilt-tripping me into working with them, but all this time they were actually setting me up," Shepard groused. "And I fell for it, like a goddamn rookie!"

"Come on Shepard, you're being too hard on yourself. There was nothing you could have done even if you _had_ seen it coming," Garrus spoke in a soothing tone.

"But. . ."

"Garrus is right, Shepard," Liara said firmly. "You had little choice back then but to play along. Besides, if I'm guessing correctly Cerberus was planning to leak all this information to the Alliance regardless of whether you had agreed to work for them or not."

"They're trying to isolate me, aren't they?" Shepard ran her hand through her hair in frustration. "They're trying to cut off all of avenues support, so I have no one else to turn to except for them. They _know_ I won't turn my turn my back on the missing colonists, they _know_ I won't run away from the fight with the Reapers. . . and they're using that against me."

She shook her head in despair. "I spent my whole life fighting for the Alliance, enlisted right out of school into the Academy. All my hard work, all my years of service. . . and tomorrow every single officer in the Navy will think that I sold out to the goddamn enemy!"

The silence that followed was very uncomfortable.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Shepard finally asked. "You're the Shadow Broker, Liara. Surely there's something you can do to help me prove my innocence!"

"I wish it were that simple, Shepard," Liara sighed. "But you have to understand, this situation is difficult for even _our_ network to deal with."

"Anderson will help," Shepard insisted. "If we took whatever information we had to him, I'm sure. . ."

"It's not that easy, Shepard. Just listen to me for a moment," Garrus interrupted her. "A week after the Normandy went down they gave you a funeral with full state honors. Thousands of people turned up for it from all over the galaxy. Anderson himself delivered your eulogy."

"Now imagine for a moment what it would look like if you suddenly popped up claiming to have been resurrected by a _terrorist_ group of all people. That too mere days after someone leaked a video of you willingly walking around a recently abducted human colony with their operatives. How do you think this would all look like to Anderson? To the Alliance?"

Shepard groaned and buried her head into her hands. "Oh god, I'm so screwed!"

"No you're not, Shepard. This isn't the end of it," Liara said firmly. "Given enough time we can use our agents to set up a plausible cover story to explain your absence. We can claim that you were part of a deep-cover operation from the Council, that your mission was classified at such high levels that even the majority of the Alliance believed you really _were_ dead."

"But in the meantime, we have to do something about the Collectors," Garrus added.

"And your brilliant idea for that is to send me _back_ to those Cerberus shitheads!?" Shepard demanded. "Give me one goddamn reason why I should willingly go within a dozen light-years of those cheating bastards!"

"That's an easy one, I'm afraid," Liara gestured at another screen.

Shepard's jaw dropped. "Holy hell! Is that what I think it is?"

"Yup. The new generation Stealth Recon starship based on the design of the Normandy SR1," Garrus grinned. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's fucking huge is what it is." Shepard gaped at the photos of the sleek spacecraft. "It's got to be at least _twice_ as big as the Normandy!"

"Quite correct. It's also equipped with a one-of-a-kind Tantalus drive core, which is three times the size of the Normandy's and much more powerful," Liara explained. "The Illusive Man pumped so many credits into its construction that he actually had to shut down several other cells to make up for the investment. Something we should actually be grateful for."

She turned to face the Commander with a serious expression. "This is the only kind of spacecraft that can hope to survive a round trip through the Omega 4 relay, which is where the Collector home world is said to be located. Even liquidating all the assets of the Brokerage won't let us create something anywhere near its league."

"I don't know," Shepard said slowly. "I still don't like the idea of using something Cerberus made."

"The ship will do its job, Shepard. Trust me, I've run the numbers. Give it the right kind of upgrades and this baby could go toe-to-toe with a Reaper and still come out on top," Garrus stated with confidence.

Shepard nodded, slightly impressed at that. She was still not completely convinced though. "Maybe we could find out where Cerberus is keeping the ship and just steal the damn thing," she suggested.

"That would be a _very_ bad idea," Liara shook her head. "Doing that will be tantamount to declaring war on Cerberus. Even with their resources depleted and their membership so low, they are still a formidable organization. Not to mention the last thing you need while chasing after the Collectors is the Illusive Man hounding you at every step."

Shepard nodded grudgingly at the sound logic behind that argument.

"Besides, there's more to the vessel than just its technology. Feron, please show her that list of the ship's proposed personnel."

Shepard glanced through the proffered OSD. Most of the names were unknown to her, but two of the names made her eyes widen in shock. "What the hell are Joker and Chakwas doing here!?"

"They were lured by the prospect of getting to work with you again," Liara informed her.

"They weren't the only ones. If you read the whole thing, you'll find that almost all of the crew is former Alliance, or they hail from some of the more remote colonies in the Terminus systems." Garrus shook his head in wonder. "Sneaky little bastard, that Illusive Man. He went out of his way to include people you'd be sure to get along with."

"Yeah. If I needed any more proof that Cerberus was out to recruit me, this pretty much does it," Shepard muttered.

She heaved a huge sigh and rubbed her face with her hands, wincing at the feeling of the scars on her cheeks. "I guess there's nothing to it then. We can't leave Joker and Chakwas with those scumbags, and that ship is something we really need if we want to stand a chance against the Collectors." Her mind went back to the day the Normandy went down, her hand clenching into fists as she remembered how easily they'd torn through her ship. "If that means I have to jump through hoops for the Illusive Asshole then. . ."

"Oh I don't think you'll be the one jumping through hoops, Shepard. More likely it'll be the other way around," Garrus smirked.

"What d'you mean?"

"This is where our plan comes in. Remember Shepard, that for all of Cerberus' resources and power, they need you a lot more than you need them." Liara gave her a rather vicious smile. "We are going to exploit this weakness of theirs to the fullest."

"How?"

"Simple. We let the Illusive Man think he's won by having you return to them, but instead we'll be working to destroy Cerberus from the inside out," Garrus stated. "We let him think he's the one in control, but all the time he'll be playing with the cards _we_ deal him."

"That still sounds one heck of a long shot to me," Shepard mumbled.

"Actually, it isn't. With your reputation and people skills, it shouldn't be hard for us to convince most of the crew to turn their backs on Cerberus."

"We have also taken care to reach out to some of the specialists on the Illusive Man's list. This way, you will have more support you can count on when the time is right," Liara smiled.

"Besides, we only need to play along with Cerberus for about eight solar months or so. I think we'll be fine," Garrus shrugged.

"Why? What happens in eight months?" Shepard asked.

Liara and Garrus merely exchanged a knowing look, something that was really beginning to grate on Shepard's nerves by now.

"Let's just say that we'll be getting our hands on something very important. Something that may very well be the edge we need against the Reapers," Liara said.

"No shit! You guys actually _found_ something like that!?"

"We found it quite some time ago. Unfortunately, it's located in an area that is deep within Cerberus' territory. We were hoping that once Cerberus was distracted enough with supporting you for the Collector mission, we'd be able to snatch it away without them knowing."

"And you were going to tell me this . . ?"

"All in good time, Shepard," Garrus grinned.

"Fine." Shepard rolled her eyes. "So basically, you're saying that we play along with the Illusive Pyscho until we get this mysterious. . . thing we need to beat Sovereign's buddies. Then we subvert his crew, steal his ship, give Cerberus the middle-finger and take the fight to the Reapers instead."

"Succinctly put, Shepard," Liara agreed.

"You know, I think I like where you guys going with this," Shepard grinned and cracked her knuckles in anticipation. "So where do we start?"

Garrus leaned forward. "Well, first we're going to. . ."

* * *

 **AN: Cerberus has made their move, now it's time for our heroes to make theirs.**

 **FYI, Tela Vasir will be a sympathetic character in this series; mostly because I've seen few fics take that route.**

 **Next up: Garrus and Shepard go up against the Illusive Man. Who will win in this high-stakes game of chess?**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**

 **To the reviewer who raised some pretty excellent points but turned off their PM:**

 **1) In ME3 Citadel DLC, we see a holo of the asari arriving on the Citadel in 580 BC in the Ascension (or a ship that resembles it). Does that mean the DA is 2800 years old? Oh yes! Definitely yes! With the asari being the first in the galaxy to discover prothean technology, and having access to most of the galaxy's resources, there's a good chance they can maintain their ships for so long (even if it does cause an apparent Theseus' paradox). The asari live for centuries, after all.**

 **2)No, I'm not going to rethink Tevos' age. There's a reason I made her so young. You'll have to wait to find out, I'm afraid.  
**

 **Also, I know what the ME wikia says. Bear in mind that in ME3 the asari councillor clearly says: "A balance of power exists in this galaxy that we don't wish to upset." Who the hell is ' _we_ ' supposed to be!? Last time I checked even republics require a government of some sorts. So I'm disregarding the tripe about "** **a free-wheeling, all-inclusive legislature that citizens can participate in at will." If that were the case then the secret of the Temple of Athame wouldn't have been so classified that even Liara, the goddamn Shadow Broker, wouldn't know about it.**

 **Hence a good old-fashioned, corrupt Matriarch Council that manipulates events and purposefully turns a blind eye to the Reaper threat to maintain the galaxy's status quo. It's not that much of a stretch when you consider that Aethyta clearly mentions in ME3 that she's spying on Liara for the Matriarchs. She actually says ". . . the matriarchs might've ordered a hit if I hadn't agreed to keep an eye on her."  
**

 **I plan to use this to explain most of the plotholes in ME, as well as set up some opposition for Garrus and Co in the future, otherwise this would become a Gary Sue fic (or 'Garrus Sue' *nudge-nudge*). It's either that or the standard "Council is a bunch of morons who refuse to believe Reapers exist" bullcrap, which frankly is much more unrealistic than anything I've come up with so far.  
**

 **Sometimes fanfiction requires a writer to take a few liberties with canon, and a reader to endure a slight suspension of disbelief. So don't sweat the tiny details and just enjoy the story.  
**

 **Cheers :)**


	7. A New Beginning

**_Present. Minuteman Station._**

Garrus Vakarian was not a vindictive turian.

But the sight of utter outrage on Miranda Lawson's perfect features couldn't help but make him feel just a tiny bit satisfied.

"You!" she hissed.

"Me," he agreed. "Nice to see you too, Lawson."

"What are _you_ doing here, Vakarian?" Miranda asked coldly.

He pretended to buff his talons on the chest-plate of his armor. "That, my dear Operative Lawson, is way above your pay-grade."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she spat, hands balling into fists.

"It means," Shepard interjected smoothly, "that Garrus is here to talk to your boss on the Shadow Broker's behalf."

Miranda blinked in shock and turned to gape at the turian. "You're working for the _Broker_ now?"

Garrus merely tapped at the left side of his armor with his talon, drawing everyone's attention to the Shadow Broker's symbol neatly engraved on his breast-plate.

"You. . . this is ridiculous!" Miranda rounded on the other woman. "Commander, you can't seriously consider trusting him! He works for the Broker. . ."

"He does?" Shepard widened her eyes in mock-surprise. "Garrus, how come you never told me?"

"This is _not_ a laughing matter, Shepard!" The brunette looked about ready to explode. "He's. ."

". . . here to deal with your boss, Lawson, not you. Now, I suggest you step aside and let us talk to the Illusive Man."

"Unless you'd like us to leave," Garrus added.

Miranda's biotics flared. "What makes you think we'll _let_ you?"

Shepard merely gave her a crooked grin. "What makes you think you can _stop_ us?"

"Miranda. . ." Jacob spoke from behind her. But she didn't really need his warning to know that Shepard was right. Even with the entire station under her command, Miranda knew she was severely outmatched. She and Jacob would have struggled to subdue Shepard on her own. Add someone as skilled as Vakarian to the mix, and their chances of surviving a direct confrontation were less than zero.

Her mind worked furiously, trying to find a way to regain control over the situation. But before she could come up with something, her omni-tool beeped twice. She recognized the pattern immediately: it was a high-priority transmission from the Illusive Man himself.

She glanced at her omni-tool and fought back her surprise at the content of the message. Carefully schooling her face into a neutral expression, Miranda turned on her heel and gestured at Shepard and the turian to follow her.

For the first time in her life, she found herself praying that the Illusive Man knew what he was getting them into.

* * *

Alone in his massive office, dimly lit by the glow of a nearby star, the charismatic leader of Cerberus sipped from a glass of the finest scotch in the galaxy.

Today the brilliant star outside the massive window reflected his mood perfectly.

The last week had been one of the most tiring days in his organization's history. Between his prized project being sabotaged, the desertion of one of his most valuable agents and the Shadow Broker snatching his investment from right under his best operative's nose, it was a miracle he was able to maintain his outward veneer of calm as well as he could.

And just when he'd thought things couldn't get any more baffling, his investment walked right through the front door, bringing an emissary from the Shadow Broker himself.

He sighed softly. Sometimes he couldn't help but feel that the entire galaxy was out to get him.

But this was no time for commiserating. He saw his private QEC firing up and mentally steeled himself for the confrontation to come.

The Illusive Man ignored the turian in blue armor and addressed his investment first. "Commander Shepard, I'm glad to see that you decided to return to us. How are you feeling?"

The woman refused to answer, choosing instead to fix him with a baleful glare. Irritation at his blatant refusal to acknowledge her companion. How predictable.

He took a deep smoke from the cigarette in his hand before turning his bland gaze to the silent turian. "Garrus Vakarian. A pleasure to finally meet you. Or would you prefer to be called 'Archangel'?"

It was a subtle threat, a classic opening move designed to throw his opponent off-balance. Strangely enough, the turian seemed completely unperturbed; something that the Illusive Man found rather disturbing.

"Vakarian is fine," the turian said. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Illusive Man. Or would you prefer Jack Harper?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly, doing his best to give no other outward sign of his internal irritation. So the Broker knew about his past. Not entirely unexpected, but definitely unwelcome.

The Illusive Man took another puff of his cigarette. "I have not gone by that name in a very long time," he said neutrally. "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I'm here on behalf of the Shadow Broker to propose an alliance with Cerberus against the Reapers."

It took all of the Illusive Man's willpower to keep his shock from showing. This was. . unexpected.

But that didn't mean he was going to be thrown off his game so easily. "Oh," he said softly. "A little strange coming from an organization that frequently deals with servants of the Reapers."

"The Brokerage deals with everyone," the turian stated. "But I'm not here to justify our business to you. The deal with the Collectors was a mistaken initiative by a rogue agent of ours, who has been. . dealt with since then. The Broker explained this to Commander Shepard personally and offered his sincere apologies."

"Interesting." The Illusive Man fixed him with an unblinking stare. "What about your friend Dr Liara T'Soni, and her feud with the Broker?"

"If Liara can't see the magnitude of the threat we're facing, that's _her_ problem." The turian shrugged. "There's too much at stake for her personal vendetta against the Broker. Besides, I'm sure she'll come around once she realizes that the Commander herself has no problems with whatever's happened so far."

"That's quite a gamble you're taking there." The Illusive Man internally noted the turian's almost casual dismissal of his former squad-mate. Apparently Shepard's trusted friends had drifted further apart than he'd previously anticipated.

Then again, the turian was the only one of the surviving SR1 crew who'd missed Shepard's funeral. Perhaps he was simply an opportunist. Perhaps he didn't actually care about the human Commander as much as she thought he did.

It was something to ponder about later.

"And you have no problem with this, Shepard?" the Illusive Man inquired.

"Considering that I was revived by an organization that the Alliance has classified as terrorists, no. Not really." The Commander shrugged.

"Cerberus is hardly a terrorist organization, Shepard. We are. . ."

"I'm not here to argue semantics with you," Shepard interrupted. "Why don't you just hear Garrus out first?"

The Illusive Man took a sip from his drink, thinking deeply. It seemed that the Broker had gone to great lengths to get Shepard on his side. Whether it was simply the fact that her old squad-mate was working for him, or some really valuable information that had been offered to appease her. . the Illusive Man couldn't tell for sure. What _was_ clear was that the Broker must have offered something _very_ important for the temperamental Commander to forgive past transgressions so easily.

For a moment the Illusive Man really regretted being so terse with Shepard when she'd asked him about her old team. Perhaps he should have considered getting more of Shepard's old comrades onto the team earlier, or let Jeff Moreau talk to her sooner.

But this was not the time for regrets. This was the time for decisive action.

He fixed the turian with a cold stare. "Very well. State your terms."

"The Shadow Broker will offer whatever intelligence we have on the Collectors, along with access to our other resources. In return, the Broker requests that one of his representatives be allowed to accompany Commander Shepard for the full duration of the mission."

"And I assume that this. . representative will be yourself?"

The turian's mandibles flared in a slight grin. "Naturally."

The Illusive Man puffed on his cigarette thoughtfully. Access to more intelligence on the enigmatic Collectors and the considerable resources of the Broker network. . . and all the Broker wanted in return was to put _Vakarian_ on the mission?

It sounded too good to be true.

But he wasn't going to say that aloud. "I hope the Broker realizes that the unity of command is essential to the success of this mission." It was a polite of saying that there was no way in hell Cerberus would allow the Brokerage to have any say in how the mission was conducted.

The turian bowed his head slightly. "Of course. The Broker fully understands who's in charge."

"Me," Shepard added.

The Illusive Man quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I want full autonomy," the Commander declared. "I decide how the mission goes, not Cerberus."

"Shepard, you know you're being unreasonable. Cerberus has invested a great deal of resources into you and this mission. We expect something in return. . ."

"Not my problem," Shepard said dismissively. "I didn't ask you guys to bring me back. I don't owe you anything. You want my help, you get it on _my_ terms. Not yours."

 _So that's their game._ The Illusive Man fought to keep his temper under control. Getting angry with the woman would accomplish nothing.

He decided to try a little emotional blackmail instead. "Can you really walk away from all this Shepard? Can you really turn your back on all those colonists? On humanity?"

"Yeah, I can," Shepard said nonchalantly. "Despite what you might think, I'm not the self-appointed Savior of the Galaxy. I've always considered myself just another soldier. If the Council or the Alliance won't give me the resources, I'll just follow my orders and go home."

"Besides, we all know that the Council can't turn a blind eye to the colony abductions forever," the turian drawled. "It's just a matter of time before it all becomes too big for them to cover up, and then they'll have to come to Shepard. There's no one else they can turn to."

The Illusive Man exhaled softly. As much as he hated to admit it, the alien had hit the nail directly on the head. The Council, the Alliance, Cerberus. . . the whole _galaxy_ needed Shepard a hell of a lot more than she needed them. She was the only person in the entire galaxy who had ever killed a Reaper. No matter what anyone said right now, the fact remained that once the Reaper army _did_ arrive at their doorstep Commander Shepard would be the one they could turn to.

It was why Cerberus had spent so many credits to bring her back. It was why they were working so hard to get her on their side.

"Very well. You have made your point," he conceded. "However, I must ask that you agree to help us out a few errands every now and then during the course of the mission, Shepard. It's the least you can do in return for all the resources Cerberus is providing you."

The Commander seemed to think about it for a minute. "As long as your requests are within reason and don't involve me going against the Alliance or the Council, then yeah, I'll do what I can."

The Illusive Man nodded in gratitude. "As for the Broker's proposal, Cerberus would only be too happy to accept any help that we can get in the fight against the Reapers. In return, we only ask that the Broker avoid trading critical information about our operations with any of our enemies for the duration of this. . . partnership of ours."

The turian titled his head to the side for a second, and nodded. "Acceptable."

"In that case Shepard, I won't delay you any further," the Illusive Man announced. "The mission has been postponed for too long as it is. You'll find everything you need ready and waiting."

"One last thing: I found a pilot you might like. I hear he's one of the best. Someone you can trust." A fake smile played across his face. "Good luck out there, Shepard."

The line went dead before either of them could reply.

The Illusive Man sat back in his chair and sighed tiredly. While this new development had taken him completely by surprise, he had to admit that things hadn't gone as bad as he'd expected.

Cerberus still came out on top in these negotiations. Aside from the valuable intelligence and access to Broker resources, they had also gained a capable fighter in the turian.

He mentally ran through everything he knew about Garrus Vakarian: former Citadel Security detective, single-handedly uncovered evidence of Saren Arterius' involvement on the attack on Eden Prime. Brilliant tactician, a genius sniper, suitably accomplished with technology. . . the personnel reports drafted by Commander Shepard had been full of high praise for his abilities. Even Cerberus' analysts had pegged him as the single most dangerous individual out of all of Shepard's former squad, with the possible exception of Urdnot Wrex.

And this was apart from his reputation as Archangel, one of the Broker's most feared enforcers and suspected right-hand man.

It was almost enough for the Illusive Man to seriously consider calling the whole thing off.

He dismissed that thought immediately. No, they had come too far to drop the whole thing because of _one_ turian.

They would simply have to be on their guard, and be very, very careful while dealing with him. The Shadow Broker probably had a pretty good reason for sending Vakarian of all people to join their mission. The Illusive Man would have to be careful to remind the headstrong Miranda Lawson to stay away from the turian, their past history notwithstanding. It would not do to alienate Shepard any more than they already had.

Besides, the Illusive Man still had a few tricks up his sleeve. . .

"Put me on Channel 453-7-1. Code Alpha," he ordered the VI.

A few seconds later a crisp male voice rand in. "Sir?"

"Dr Benson, do you still have remote access to the Enhanced Defense Intelligence?"

"We do, sir."

He sat back in his chair and exhaled a small cloud of smoke. "Here's what I need you to do. . ."

* * *

 ** _4 hours later. Normandy SR2._**

Garrus Vakarian gave a happy click of his mandibles as he surveyed the main battery.

Shepard was back, his team from Omega was still alive, he was back at the Normandy SR2, both his mandibles were still intact. . .

Yup. All was right with the galaxy.

Well, okay. . . maybe not _completely_ alright. Miranda still looked like she wanted to tear his fringe off every time they were in the same room, the Cerberus crew was being extra-cautious around him and he could've sworn EDI was paying extra attention to his movements.

But all that would take care of itself, given enough time. Right now there were more important things.

He ran his hands gently over the control panel of the Normandy SR2's weapon systems.

 _My baby. . ._

Oh, it wasn't his baby. Not yet, anyways. But it would be soon. Once he got around to installing the thing he loved the most. . . third, no. . . fifth-most in the entire galaxy.

The Thanix cannon.

He resisted the urge to cackle madly like in those human holo-vids. Soon his beloved Thanix cannons would be installed, and he would be able to indulge in his favorite activity in the entire galaxy.

 _Calibrations. . ._

His sub-vocals trilled with barely restrained pleasure as he activated the control panel.

 _Calibrations. . ._

His heart swelled with happiness as the initial lines of code appeared on the screen, and the initial weapons diagnostics began to run.

 _Calibrations. . ._

He was going to enjoy himself. Oh yes! He so looked forward to spending so many wonderful hours indulging in his beloved calibrations that. . .

"Garrus!"

He jumped in shock and whipped around. "Commander," he nodded, hoping she hadn't noticed anything. It would not do to make Shepard think he was a creepy turian with a fetish for big guns.

 _Damn, that just sounds so wrong . . ._

"Settling in okay?"

 _Great, she didn't notice anything._ "Sure. Just checking the weapons systems. You can never be too careful."

"That's nice. So how do things look so far?" she casually raised her left hand and brushed the lapel of her uniform.

Garrus caught on immediately. He discreetly powered up his omni-tool and three low-pitched beeps emanated from it.

"We're secure," he said.

"You sure?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah. The program I'm using is a variation of the one Tali and I developed on the SR1. It temporarily blocks out AIs, so we should be able to talk privately for a few minutes."

"Well, there's one way to test that theory," Shepard muttered. Aloud she said, "The Illusive Man is an evil bastard."

They stood in silence for a minute.

"Yup. I don't hear Lawson storming up here, so your program's working." She relaxed now. "So, how's things looking so far?"

"Not bad," Garrus admitted. "I managed to disable most of the listening devices in this area, only leaving out a couple of them so as to not make our benefactors too nervous."

"Good. Make sure to not let your guard down even for a second," Shepard said firmly. "We don't want to give her any chances to take a shot at us."

"Don't worry, Shepard. I doubt Lawson would try anything crazy after the way we just dealt with her boss," Garrus chuckled.

"Lawson!? What? No. . . Garrus, I'm not talking about Lawson."

"Then who were you referring to?" Garrus was puzzled.

"I was referring to the _real_ head of the Lazarus cell, the one who hides in the shadows and watches over us. The one who's been secretly using Miranda as a patsy." Shepard looked around furtively (which was weird considering only the two of them were in the deserted battery) before leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner. "I'm talking about Kelly Chambers."

"Chambers?" he asked dumbly.

"That's right. I figured it all out a few minutes ago," Shepard said in an excited voice. "It's all a great hoax, Garrus! Lawson isn't the one incharge of this operation, Chambers is!"

"Lawson's just a smokescreen to cover up the identity of the real brains behind this complete setup. It's Chambers, I tell you! She's the one who's running the whole damn thing!"

"Shepard," Garrus said slowly, wondering if he should ask Chakwas to do a brain scan on her. "I don't know what led you to this idea. But Kelly Chambers is the farthest thing from an evil mastermind you could possibly get."

"Oh Garrus, you're just so naïve sometimes," Shepard sighed. "You really don't know how criminals work, do you?"

Garrus privately thought that his two lifetimes worth of experience with C-Sec had made him pretty qualified to know a criminal when he saw one. But he remained silent.

"That's exactly what she _wants_ you to think! That whole cheerful, bubbly persona is a mask to hide her true nature."

"But. . ."

"Just think about it for a minute: we've got a goddamn AI on our ship. What possible need would I have of a yeoman, especially when Lawson's the one handling all the paperwork?"

"She's not just your yeoman, Shepard. She's also the ship's psychologist," Garrus reminded her.

"Exactly!" she crowed triumphantly. "She's got herself appointed as the ship's psychologist, because she _knows_ that people on high-risk missions tend to open up to psychologists. I bet she's going to use the whole 'I'm-concerned-about-your-mental-health' routine to get into all of our heads and find out our weaknesses. Really cunning of her, don't you think?"

Garrus sighed heavily. "Commander, are you sure you're not just being paranoid?"

In response, Shepard simply grabbed his hand and hauled him to the battery doors. "Look," she pointed at the med-bay where Chambers and Dr Chakwas were chatting animatedly.

"You look at her and tell me it's possible for someone to be so naturally cheerful. You look at her and tell me it's possible to be all bubbly and happy like that without doing drugs!"

Garrus scratched his mandible thoughtfully. Perhaps it was better to just play along with her for now. "You know, you might just have a point there. . ."

"Exactly," Shepard nodded. "She's just pretending to be nice so she can take us down when we're least expecting it! But she won't get us. Oh no, she won't!"

"Right," he said, just as Chambers exited the med-bay and made her way to the crew quarters, stopping to give them a cheerful wave on the way. "So, uh. . what do we do now?"

"Just smile and wave, Garrus," Shepard said through clenched teeth, giving a mechanical wave in return. "Just smile and wave."

* * *

"Liara?"

The new Shadow Broker started from her reverie. "Yes, Feron?"

"Garrus just reported in. The first stage was a success: the Illusive Man agreed to our terms."

Liara sighed in relief. "Thank the goddess! Where are they now?"

"Aboard the Normandy SR2, at least that's what they named the frigate anyway." Feron glanced at the OSD in his hands once again. "He says they're on their way to Omega to pick up Dr Mordin Solus."

"That is good," Liara nodded. "Thank you, Feron."

She watched the drell limp away with a sad smile on her face. Feron was truly a much better man than most gave him credit for. Even though he knew full well that she and Garrus weren't being completely honest with him, he still obeyed their orders without any question.

There were days when she truly felt guilty for not being completely honest with him. But the truth was hardly simple.

When Garrus had told her the truth back in his apartment on the Citadel two years ago, she had actually used her biotics to throw him across the room. She then proceeded to call him him every vile name in the native asari language, screaming in near-hysterical rage.

She would have gone even further with her insults, had it not been for Garrus' reaction. The broken turian had simply sat there, his head bowed, taking everything she threw at him without any resistance. It was this perplexing behavior of the usually proud man that had eventually calmed Liara down, before she practically ordered him to meld with her and prove his story.

What followed had been the most horrifying moments of her life.

Scenes of utter death and destruction, the coming of the Reapers, an older and crueler Shepard committing atrocity after atrocity in the name of the greater good; herself and Garrus at her side, looking just as jaded, not even offering a token of protest as Shepard's actions led to the death of entire species, and so many good friends. . .

"How could you stand this?" Liara had whispered, looking up from where she'd been violently sick on the floor. "How could you live with all this inside your mind, Garrus?"

His response back then had merely been a sad, defeated smile. It was only then that Liara had realized the true magnitude of his suffering, and what he had put himself through after losing Shepard again.

What was her grief compared to his? Compared to what he had seen, what he been through. . . what right did she have to break down so utterly over losing the woman she'd loved?

But it wasn't over yet. There was still a lot to come, and Liara knew if they wanted to prevent the tragedies from Garrus' timeline from happening in theirs, they would have to fight.

That had been two years ago. Now, as Liara lay back in her armchair, she still couldn't believe that their insane plan had worked as well as it had. Against all odds Shepard was back with them, and they were well on their way on bringing the fight to the Reapers.

But that didn't mean _everything_ was well. Her mind went back to the last conversation she'd had with Garrus before their departure:

 _Alone in her private office, Liara folded her arms and fixed her turian friend with a stern glare. "When exactly are you planning on telling her the truth?"_

 _"Soon, Liara. But now's not the time."_

 _"She needs to know, Garrus," Liara insisted. "She needs to know the **whole** truth."_

 _"I know."_

 _"Then why aren't you being completely honest with her?" she exploded. "By the Goddess, Garrus! That woman in there is on the verge of losing everything! And now she's willingly walking back into the arms of the enemy on nothing but our word! She deserves to know. . !"_

 _"You thing I don't know that?" Garrus snarled. "Spirits, Liara! I've been wanting to come clean with her since the moment I saw her again. It's just. . ." He shook his head helplessly._

 _"Just what?"_

 _In response Garrus fired up his omni-tool, bringing up the feeds from one of the surveillance cameras on the ship. It showed Shepard standing near the windows, playing with its controls._

 _"Look at her," he said quietly. "She's not completely alright, but she's happy. Coping the best way she can. Heck, I don't think the fact of her own death has sunk in yet. She's still under the assumption that she just. . I don't know. . woke up from a coma or something." His shoulders drooped visibly. "I can't take this away from her, Liara. I can't just. . dump this all on her. Not now. Not when she's got so much to deal with."_

 _Liara silently watched the footage for a few minutes. "Then what will you do?"_

 _"Wait," he answered simply. "Wait for her to make sense of all this. The Collectors, the Reapers, her death. . . all of it. Once she's dealt with everything, I'll tell her the truth." He gave a hollow bark of laughter. "Spirits. How do you tell the woman you love that you've traveled across **time** of all things? That everything she thinks she knows about you is a lie?"  
_

 _Liara laid a comforting hand on his arm. "She won't take it well, Garrus. "_

 _"I know. But it's fine. Once she finds out the truth about me, she can hate me all she want." He turned around to look at her, his eyes boring into her own. "But as long as I'm breathing I'll always fight by her side, even if she despises me for it."_

Liara sighed and looked out of her window into the stormy sky, trying to imagine the space beyond. . .where the Normandy SR2 was making it's maiden journey. She sent out a whispered prayer to Athame, entreating her to give strength to her two closest friends in the galaxy.

She then turned back to her terminal. It was time to set the next part of their plan into motion.

* * *

 **AN: Shepard's reaction to Kelly is similar to my own when I first played ME2. I was so convinced that she was going to betray me in the end that I deliberately used all Renegade responses. I was even cheering when she got liquefied in the Collector Base. It was only after my first playthrough that I realized I could have saved her and gotten a free lap-dance if I'd only been a little less paranoid. *sigh*  
**

 **One of things that bugged me about ME2 was Shepard's blase reaction to almost everything that happens to him/her. The lack of emotional reaction to major plot points is so ridiculous that it's almost funny.  
**

 _ **TIM: Shepard, we're the terrorists you encountered a few years ago. We brought you back from the dead.**_

 _ **Shepard: Meh.**_

 ** _Miranda: Shepard, I tried to put a control chip in your head. You know, like the ones batarian slavers use on their victims._ **

_**Shepard: Meh.**_

 **Really, Shepard? Really? No reaction, no angst, no outrage over Kahoku's death. . . nothing beyond a few bland lines, and a token reminder of working WITH Cerberus during conversations.  
**

 **Hence the reason I've stretched the whole 'Shepard works with Cerberus' a little. I'm also going to work to give Miranda a realistic reason to turn on TIM, since saving her sister is hardly enough grounds for her to do a complete about turn in the last few seconds of the game.  
**

 **Next up: The dynamic duo make their way to Omega to pick up a certain scientist salarian. Meanwhile, the Alliance comes to terms with the possible resurrection of their greatest hero.**

 **Stay tuned :)**


	8. Goddamn Guns For Hire

_**Present. Arcturus Station.**_

Admiral Steven Hackett signed off on what he really hoped was his final report for the night. "Anything else I need to look at, Michelle?"

"No, sir," his yeoman confirmed, much to his relief.

"Then please see to it that these are filed by tomorrow. That'll be all. Goodnight Yeoman."

"Goodnight sir," she threw him a sharp salute and walked away primly.

Hackett waited a few more minutes and then securely locked his office. He then strode over to his QEC terminal, keyed in his highest level encryptions and waited for a response.

As the holograms fired up, Hackett took a second to silently marvel at how advanced technology had gotten in the last few decades. Thirty years ago FTL travel beyond the Sol relay was considered a high-risk endeavor, and now he was using experimental technology to have a conversation with two of his colleagues from opposite ends of the galaxy, practically in real-time.

He stood straighter as the figure to his left became clearer. "Admiral Hackett."

"Councillor," he nodded.

The hologram of David Anderson grimaced slightly. "I asked you not to call me that, sir."

Hackett permitted himself a small smile. David really was a marine to the core. "And I asked you to call me by my name when we're having a private chat."

"Yes. . .well, this is hardly a social call, is it?"

The bitterness in Anderson's voice drove home the seriousness of this conversation. "No," Hackett sighed. "No, it isn't."

A second later the figure on his right shimmered into existence. "Admiral, Councillor," Rear Admiral Kahoku threw them both a sharp salute. "Apologies for the delay."

"Not necessary, Kahoku. We'd barely started. Now," he straightened himself and assumed his voice of command. "I assume you gentlemen have gone through the report I sent you."

"Aye Sir," Kahoku nodded while Anderson merely grunted. Hackett decided to let his behavior slide given how obvious his frustration was.

Besides, it wasn't exactly fair of him to blame Anderson when his own reaction had been less than pleasant when he'd received the intelligence reports from HQ, and he'd barely known the Commander.

It was Kahoku who finally asked the million-credit question. "Are we sure it's really her?"

"It's not," Anderson said without skipping a beat. "There's no way that woman in the holo could be Shepard."

Hackett fixed him with a piercing look. "What's your basis for saying that, Anderson?"

"Shepard would never work for Cerberus," he boldly declared.

"I'm with him on this one, Admiral," Kahoku chimed in. "I've known Shepard since the Blitz. Kid is straightforward and honest as they come. There's no way she'd associate with scum like them."

"Not to mention that Shepard pretty much abhors everything Cerberus stands for," Anderson added. "Why the hell would she join up with a bunch of xenophobes when some of her closest friends are aliens? That doesn't make any sense!"

Hackett nodded. "I agree that doesn't make much sense, but then what's the alternative?"

"An imposter," Anderson shrugged. "Or god forbid. . . a clone."

"Clone's pretty likely," Kahoku agreed. "From what I've seen of Cerberus' experiments the past two years. . . let's just say I wouldn't it past those bastards to try something like that."

Hackett scratched his chin thoughtfully. He was, of course, familiar with Kahoku's work. He was the one who had authorized the Rear Admiral to form a Black Ops team and go after Cerberus when the man had approached him with evidence after that nasty business at Chasca two years ago. They had done a remarkable job since then.

"Not likely. To create a clone they'd have needed access to Shepard's genetic material from the Archives, and I doubt even Cerberus could pull off something like that without drawing any suspicion."

"There are other ways of getting genetic material, sir. We never did find her body," Kahoku reminded them.

"More like we weren't allowed to," Anderson said bitterly.

Hackett grimaced at that. The Alliance's refusal to deploy a search team to find Shepard's body had always been a sore point for all three of them. The very idea that the body of humanity's greatest soldier was floating around somewhere in the icy blackness of space made his blood boil, but the cowards in Alliance HQ had insisted that the dangers of sending out their ships into geth space just to retrieve a body that could be anywhere was much too great. Privately, Hackett believed it was mostly because a lot of them were actually glad to be rid of Shepard. The young Commander had never had much fans within conservative circles with her no-nonsense attitude, and her decision to save the Council at the expense of several human lives had rubbed many pro-human political parties the wrong way.

"Be that as it may, we still don't have enough to conclusively say that it _is_ a clone," Hackett said. "Besides, I doubt Cerberus would try to pull something so ridiculous when they've been steadily losing so much ground for the last two years."

"Desperate people do all kinds of stupid things," Kahoku shrugged. "Maybe this is their last ditch attempt at regaining some credibility."

Anderson however chose to fix Hackett with a suspicious glare. "Is there something you're not telling us, Admiral?"

Hackett sighed in resignation. Damn N7s and their perceptiveness. You couldn't hope to keep them in the dark for long. "A few hours ago I received a transmission from the Shadow Broker."

"About?"

He licked his lips slowly. "The Broker seems to believe that it really _is_ Jane Shepard in that holo."

Kahoku's eyebrows shot up slightly. "And his proof?"

In response Hackett transmitted a few files to both of them. He waited until they started going through it before continuing. "Apparently Cerberus managed to. . . _revive_ Shepard using advanced technology. Something called Project Lazarus. She's working with them to resolve the situation with the missing colonies."

" _Lazarus_ , huh. Talk about being dramatic," Kahoku grunted. "Are we sure this is real?"

"According to the Broker, it is."

"And you actually trust the Broker about this!?" Anderson asked in surprise.

"Normally I wouldn't, but this case is something different. There was a name included in the original message that was very familiar."

"A name? Whose?"

Hackett turned to look at Kahoku before answering. "Archangel."

The Rear Admiral blinked in shock. "Archangel!? You sure, sir?"

"Positive."

Anderson looked at each of them in turn. "What am I missing here? Who's this Archangel?"

"He's an anonymous informant who first established contact with Kahoku after the Chasca incident," Hackett explained. "Gave us a lot of useful information about Cerberus, including the location of most of their bases."

"He saved my life," Kahoku admitted honestly. "If I'd investigated Cerberus the way I originally intended to, I'd probably have wound up in one of their interrogation rooms. The way I see it we owe a lot of our success against those bastards to him."

"We've suspected that he was a Broker agent for a while, but there was never any proof," Hackett continued. "Until now, that is."

Anderson immediately caught on to his implication. "You think the Broker's just using us to take out Cerberus so that he can take over?"

"That was my initial suspicion, yes; but from what we've seen the Broker has done very little to capitalize on Cerberus' losses, at least in the past year."

There was a few moments of silence after that. Then Kahoku spoke, "I think we should consider what the Broker says, if only as a possibility. He hasn't lied to us yet."

Anderson shook his head. "I don't like the idea of taking an information broker at his word."

"We won't have to," Hackett interjected. "We can simply find out for ourselves."

"But how?"

"The easiest way: by talking to Shepard directly."

Anderson stared at him. "You think we should just ask her to report to the Alliance and interrogate her?"

"No, that would be a _very_ bad idea. Those vultures will tear her apart," Hackett shook his head. "No, I think it'd be best if you were to deal with this yourself, Anderson. That kid's your protégé. If there's anyone who can tell if she's the real deal, it's you."

"Do you really think it's that simple, Admiral? I'm supposed to just send her a message and tell her to drop by for a chat!?"

"If it really _is_ Jane Shepard, there's no way she won't answer your summons." Hackett stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Try to frame it as neutrally as you can. Tell her. . . tell her the Council wants to see her about her Spectre status. Keep the Alliance out of it entirely."

"And if it really _is_ her?"

"Then you do whatever it takes to ensure her Spectre status is reinstated. If she's really going out there investigating missing colonies, she's going to need it. Once I receive confirmation from you I'll start the process to have her slip back into the Alliance ranks under the Fifth Fleet's command. Shouldn't be too hard to come up with a good cover story."

"HQ won't like it," Kahoku warned.

Hackett waved his concerns aside. "Let me worry about HQ. You focus on your mission, Kahoku. See if you dig up any more information on this Project Lazarus, but your biggest priority is to establish once and for all what Cerberus has to do with the colony abductions."

"Between us, sir, I really don't think they have anything to do with the abductions," Kahoku stated. "Even putting aside from all the damage we've caused recently, I simply don't think Cerberus has the kind of technology it'd take to disable an entire colony with minimal resistance. Heck, nobody in the galaxy does."

"I agree, but it would still be nice to have some physical evidence. Then we can turn our attention to the real culprits." He glanced at Anderson. "Maybe Shepard can shed some light on that."

"Let's hope she can. It'll take a miracle for the Council to accept her reasons for working with Cerberus of all things. Sparatus has never particularly liked her," Anderson sighed. "But that's a problem for another day. I'd just be glad to have her back."

"We all would, Anderson," Hackett reassured him. "We all would."

The Councilor nodded. "Then I'll get back to you as soon as I can, Admiral."

"Same here, sir," Kahoku added.

"Then good luck to both of you, gentlemen. Hackett out."

He waited until the QEC was deactivated before exhaling loudly and walking back to his desk. Reaching into a compartment Hackett quickly pulled out a small tumbler of scotch and poured himself a glass.

He ruminated upon the conversation he'd just had. Kahoku and Anderson. . . they were good men, both of them. He wouldn't be able to accomplish half the things he had without trustworthy people like them at his side.

It was why Hackett felt all the more guilty at having to lie to them.

He once again glanced at the Broker's message, specifically the part he had neglected to share with the other two, and narrowed his eyes.

How the hell did the Broker find out about Amanda Kenson's deep-cover assignment!?

Hackett himself had personally briefed Amanda about the mission specifics a year ago, sending her into batarian space to verify the existence of the so-called Reapers from Shepard's mission report. The entire operation was classified at the highest levels with only Amanda and Hackett himself being aware of all the specifics, and was planned out to such detail that Amanda had spent an entire year merely establishing her cover.

 _Then how did he know. . . ?_

Hackett shook his head. No, the question wasn't _how_ the Broker knew; it was _what_ he knew. What on earth could the Broker have found out that he would ask Hackett to keep an eye on Amanda of all people?

Was Amanda compromised? Had the Batarian Hegemony caught on to her activities? Or was there something else? Something much more insidious at play. . .

Briefly, Hackett recalled Shepard's report on Saren. Something about the Reapers being able to indoctrinate their victims. Was that what had happened to Amanda? Was the Broker trying to warn him that Amanda was indoctrinated?

So many questions. . .

Hackett sighed softly before taking another sip of his scotch. There were a lot of unknown quantities out there, too much for even him to handle. Perhaps it was time to bring Kahoku into his confidences, have his team check out Amanda's project once, just as a precaution. .

Even as his sharp mind whirled with plans, Hackett could not shake off the uneasy feeling that they were all overlooking something. Something very, very important.

Something big was coming. He could feel it in his old bones. Something was coming that would shake the very foundation of their galaxy, and they weren't anywhere close to ready to deal with it.

* * *

 _ **5 hours later. Omega.**_

"Omega," Miranda sneered. "Such a pisshole!"

"I dunno," Shepard frowned. "It doesn't look that bad. . ."

The words were barely out of her mouth when a figure stepped out of the shadows. "Welcome," a sleazy-looking salarian said, shooting them an obviously fake smile. "You must be new here. I'm. . ."

"A dead man if he keeps talking," a voice growled from behind him.

The salarian jumped as though he'd been electrocuted. "M-Morlan. . ." he stammered at the approaching batarian. "I-I was just. . ."

"Get lost, Fargut," Morlan waved his hand dismissively.

"O-of course, Morlan. Whatever she wants. . ."

The batarian watched Fargut scamper away before turning to address their group. "Welcome to Omega, Commander Shepard. Aria wants to see you in Afterlife before you go about your business."

"Hey! Just because I was dead doesn't mean you get to joke about it, y'know!" Shepard said indignantly.

"Afterlife's a club," Morlan sighed.

"Oh," Shepard said dumbly. "Uhh. . . sure, then. I'll do that."

As the batarian walked away, Shepard turned to Miranda. "Who's this Aria supposed to be?"

"Why don't you ask your friend?" the brunette snarked. "He _does_ work for the Broker, doesn't he?"

Garrus suppressed a sigh. "Aria T'Loak is a really powerful asari who's been in control of Omega for several centuries. She's pretty infamous all over the galaxy, and the closest damn thing this place has to a government. She's also the main reason the Council refuses to mess with the Terminus systems."

"Right," Shepard nodded. She waited until they'd resumed walking and the two Cerberus operatives were a little ahead before leaning towards her friend. "Remind me again why Lawson looks like you killed her puppy?"

"Okay, firstly: I have no idea what a puppy is. Secondly: we didn't exactly make the best impression on each other when we met two years ago."

"Just how bad did your first meeting go?"

"Shots were fired," Garrus admitted.

He left out the part where he and Liara had pretty much threatened Miranda's sister to prevent her from sticking that control chip inside Shepard's head. While they hated what they'd had to resort to, the fact remained that Miranda wasn't yet the person whom they had befriended in the previous timeline. She was still too much within the Illusive Man's thrall to notice the true nature of the organization she worked for.

The Commander rolled her eyes. "You two should sit down and talk this whole thing through after we finish picking up Dr Solus."

"Hey, I'm not the one working for a bunch of xenophobic terrorists," Garrus said in a petulant tone.

Shepard scowled. "Hey, I don't like her either! But this mission is too big for our petty squabbles. Which is why I'm _ordering_ you to sort out your differences with her, Gunnery Officer Vakarian!"

"Yes, Ma'am. Commander Shepard, Ma'am!" He mock-saluted her.

She was about to deck him when a loud explosion sounded from the left of Afterlife's main entrance.

"What the hell was that!?" Jacob exclaimed.

"No idea. But keep your weapons ready," Shepard said as she slowly moved forward.

The source of the commotion turned out to be a skycar which had crashed headfirst into a shop. The injured driver, a batarian, was unsuccessfully trying to crawl out of the wreckage.

Before Shepard could decide on whether or not to provide assistance, a figure jumped out of a nearby balcony.

"So, Dovile you rat-bastard," the man in yellow armor sneered. "Finally decided to crawl out of your hole, eh?"

"P-please. . . p-please. . spare me. . ."

"You know, that's funny. I wasn't there, but I'm sure that's exactly what that little girl you cut up the other day said." The man casually slung his ML-77 Missile launcher over his shoulder. "You remember her, don't you? The one whose organs you were trying to sell this morning."

"Dorvile?" Miranda whispered. "Is that really Dorvile Ghabregan?"

"You know him?" Shepard asked.

"I know _of_ him. He's probably the most notorious human trafficker and organ-harvester in the Terminus systems. They say he specializes in young women," Miranda said with a disgusted expression.

"Oh. Well, guess that means we don't need to interfere then," Shepard calmly holstered her assault rifle.

"F-fuck you, Massani. . ." the batarian spat. "You'll. . . pay. . ."

"Yeah? Who'll make me? Your friends the Suns? I wouldn't count on them sugar, they've been out of commission for a while now," the merc answered.

"Massani?" Shepard frowned. "Is that. . ?"

"That's right," Miranda confirmed. "He's one of the people we're here to recruit."

"Zaeed Massani," Garrus said quietly. "The most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy."

At that moment, Massani turned around and walked away from his prey.

"W-wait. . ." Dorvile shouted. "You. . . can't just leave me here. . ."

"Oh, my bad," the merc sneered. "Here, lemme help. . ."

He pulled out a missile from his launcher, ran his omni-tool over it and tossed the explosive into the wreckage of the vehicle.

"No!" the batarian screamed.

"Burn in hell, you bastard." Massani casually lit a cigar as he walked away.

And the skycar exploded behind him, enveloping the screaming batarian in hot flames as Zaeed-goddamn-Massani swept away like a badass, making his way to the group of three humans and one turian who were staring at him with their mouths hanging open in astonishment.

* * *

Zaeed calmly puffed on his cigar as he made his way to his newest employer. "Commander Shepard, pleased to meet ya."

"Uh. . . likewise. So. . . uhh, you're Zaeed Massani?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. It felt weird, calling a girl old enough to be his daughter 'Ma'am', but Zaeed had always had great respect for the red and white symbol on her armor. N7s were real tough bastards, and this was Commander-goddamn-Shepard, the greatest of them all. If even half the things he'd heard about her were true, the woman was a goddamn hero.

"I assume you've been briefed?"

"I've done my homework," Zaeed nodded. "Cerberus sent me everything I needed to know. You'll be going after Mordin Solus, I presume."

"Yeah. But first we have to see Aria."

"Then I'll meet you near the slums when you're done with her," he said. "Gotta cash in my last bounty, and I'd rather not face Aria just yet after this." He waved his hand at the carnage behind him.

"Alright," she nodded. "See you later then."

Zaeed nodded respectfully and watched the group make their way to the entrance of Afterlife. He met the Cerberus Operatives' assessing look with a blank stare of his own. Then just as the massive doors began to close, the turian's hawk-like gaze met Zaeed's. . .

. . .and Zaeed nodded.

The turian's response was a simple flick of his mandibles before he disappeared from view. Zaeed smirked and walked away.

Son-of-a-bitch was right. Everything turned out just the way he'd said it would.

* * *

 _ **8 months ago.**_

"Zaeed Massani."

The bounty hunter turned around in his seat to regard the newcomer, a tall armored turian, warily. In any other pub his mask and synthesized voice might have drawn stares, but in a hive of scum and villainy like this place it barely warranted a second glance.

"Depends on who's asking," he said warily. Something about the turian sent alarm bells ringing in his head.

"Your new employer, if you'll accept the contract that is."

Zaeed took a puff of his cigar. "Depends on what you're offering."

The turian sidled into the booth opposite to him. He waited until two drinks were placed on the table before almost casually saying. "We need you to kill somebody."

Zaeed grunted, taking a sip of whiskey. "Gonna need a lot more than that, sugar."

"Vido Santiago, leader of the Blue Suns."

Zaeed almost choked on his drink. "The fuck you say!?" he snarled.

The turian ignored his borderline belligerent tone. "I believe you're acquainted with him."

"You got a gift for understatement, mate," Zaeed sneered. "You know where that bastard is holed up?"

"Wouldn't have come to you if I didn't. So, does this mean you'll take the job?"

Zaeed was sorely tempted to answer in the affirmative, but long years of mercenary work had taught him to be wary of offers that sounded too good to be true. "What's _your_ beef with him?"

"My employer doesn't like the way he operates. He's convinced Santiago is going to cause a lot of trouble for a friend of ours in the future, and thus wants him eliminated. That should be enough for you."

"It would if I were a goddamn rookie," Zaeed growled. "How do I know this isn't a trap?"

"My employer would be hardly interested in leading you into a trap after all the business you've done for us in the past."

It was then that Zaeed noticed the faint symbol on the turian's breastplate. "You work for the goddamn Shadow Broker!?"

"That's right."

"Never seen you before."

"I'm the Broker's new right hand man," he said smoothly. "You can call me Archangel."

Zaeed narrowed his eyes. Truth be told he didn't much care who the guy in front of him was. The information he was offering was worth his weight in eezo, and he really had no wish to turn it away. But he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Listen here, Archangel," Zaeed spoke. "I'll kill Vido for free if you want, but you gotta come clean with me first on what _you_ want in return."

The turian seemed strangely pleased by that. "The Broker wants to hire you for another mission after this one. It'll be a long one, at least a year, and you'll be paid in advance."

"What kinda mission?"

"Infiltration," the turian said simply. "We need you to get into Cerberus for us."

Zaeed snorted. "Fat chance of that, buddy."

The turian ignored his disbelief. "A few months from now the Illusive Man will get in touch with you for a high-risk long term mission against the Collectors; a 'suicide mission' if you will. The pay will be astronomical. We need you to be our inside man when that happens."

The merc narrowed his eyes. "You seem strangely sure that's going to happen."

"I know a lot of things," the turian shrugged. "So, you in?"

Zaeed puffed on his cigar. "Still feels a bit dodgy to me, mate."

"Fair enough. Tell you what, once Santiago's dead I'll give you an OSD with some important data on it. Go through it and if you're still not interested, we can part ways."

"Yeah? What d'you that's so goddamn important?" Zaeed asked suspiciously.

"Why don't we talk about that _after_ you kill your former business partner?"

Zaeed ignored the implied jab. "Where did you say he was at again?"

"He's holed up inside an Eldfell-Ashland oil refinery on Zorya, in the Faia system."

"Then what the bloody hell are we waiting for?" Zaeed stubbed out his cigar and got to his feet.

"One last thing," the turian said. "While we're there you'll be under _my_ command. That means you'll follow my orders. _All_ of them."

Zaeed narrowed his eyes threateningly. "Vido's mine," he declared.

"He will be," the turian seemed completely unimpressed by this display of bravado. "As long as you follow _my_ orders."

They stood there, measuring each other up in silence. Finally, Zaeed relented. "Fine, we'll do it your way pal. But I'll be the one to put a bullet into that bastard's skull in the end!"

"No argument there. Now, come on."

Zaeed followed him, and the part of his mind that wasn't trembling in anticipation couldn't help but feel that things were going to get interesting.

Very interesting indeed.

* * *

 **AN: I decided to change Zaeed's intro a little, since I figured that the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy should have a more badass introduction rather than beating up some helpless batarian in a alley like a common thug. I also figured that a Zaeed who's successfully gotten his revenge and had time to digest it emotionally would be a bit more agreeable than he is in the game.  
**

 **Oh, and don't worry if things seem to be going a little too well for Garrus and Co. I plan on making the fight with the Collectors a lot more difficult than it is in the game, and the Reaper war will be on a level of its own. Harbinger and his gang aren't going to go down that easily, I assure you.**

 **Next up - Shepard and Garrus have an audience with the Queen of Omega, and then go vorcha-hunting on behalf of a scientist salarian. What crazy shenanigans will our dynamic duo get up to next?**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	9. Omega's One Rule

_**Afterlife. Omega.**_

The powerful bass of the music throbbed in the air, the dancers on the raised podium gyrating to its heady tune; the crowd on the dance floor swayed madly to the rhythm, their silhouettes lit up purple by the gigantic holograms. . .

And standing in her private lounge, Aria T'Loak, the Queen of all she surveyed reveled in its incredible glory.

Almost every single species in the galaxy had a different name for this place. To the asari it was "the heart of evil", to the salarians it was "the place of secrets", the turians called it "the world without law", and the krogan thought of it as "the land of opportunity". . .

But personally, Aria preferred the name the humans used: Omega. The end of all things. For that was truly what this place was, at its very core. . .

Omega was the place where dreams came to die.

 _And speaking of humans. . ._

Her eyes carefully followed the motley group making their way towards her. Even from this distance there was no mistaking them: the four of them had a distinctive. . . presence about them; the kind she'd seen in very few people on this Goddess-forsaken rock.

She continued to stare out impassively over the dance floor. As the four heavily armed soldiers made their way towards her she almost casually barked, "That's close enough."

The footsteps halted and the sound of several weapons being charged rang through the lounge. Aria herself did not even care to turn around; this was just a simple intimidation tactic, more useful for gaining a measure of her guest than anything else. She dimly noted that the soldier closest to her had not bothered to even move a muscle, though that was more out of confidence than anything else. If that red-headed woman was who she truly claimed to be then she didn't have much to be afraid of; no one on Omega except for Aria herself could hope to challenge someone with her skill and walk away in one piece.

She tiled her head slightly. "Stand still," the gruff voice of her security guard sounded as he stepped forward and fired up his omni-tool.

"If you're looking for weapons you're not doing a very good job," a snarky female voice pointed out.

Aria narrowed her eyes. So this was her: the one they called Shepard.

"Can't be too careful with dead Spectres," she said over her shoulder. "That could be anyone wearing your face."

The human female stepped forward. "I was told you're the person to talk to if I have questions."

Aria waited for Garka's confirmation before turning around to face her visitor for the first time. She ran a cursory glance over Shepard's three companions, two humans (Cerberus operatives, judging by their uniforms) and a heavily armed turian standing at the back. Her eyes bored into a pair of beautiful emerald orbs as she spoke, "Depends on the questions."

"You run Omega?"

Aria actually laughed out aloud. If she had a credit for every single time someone asked her that question, she could buy out the entire Terminus systems.

But the question itself didn't irritate her. It was an opportunity to drive home an important point, and Aria T'Loak never wasted a good opportunity.

She turned on her heel and strode over to the balcony, spreading her arms out dramatically. "I _am_ Omega!" she boldly declared.

She then immediately turned back to the human female and was pleasantly surprised to see that the woman wasn't rolling her eyes, as so many fools tended to do sometimes. She was smart enough to pay complete attention when someone of Aria's stature spoke, which meant she was smart enough to get the message.

That was good. Aria _liked_ dealing with smart people.

"But you need more," she continued, pacing back and forth. "Everyone needs more something, and they all come to me."

"I'm the boss, CEO, queen if you're. . . feeling dramatic. It doesn't really matter. Omega has no titled ruler and only _one_ rule."

In a smooth movement Aria took her seat and crossed her legs, striking a pose of complete confidence. "Don't. _Fuck_. With Aria," she finished, shooting the Commander a slight smile.

"I like it," Shepard nodded. "Easy to remember."

Aria was impressed in spite of herself. Apparently the human did have some sense of tact. Still, she felt it prudent to add, "If you forget, someone will remind you."

"And then I toss your sorry ass out the nearest airlock," Garka sneered as Shepard took her seat.

Aria suppressed a sigh at the unnecessary interjection. Really, who did he think he was trying to intimidate? Fortunately it seemed that the Commander was far more mature than she appeared to be, merely responding with a condescending smirk; as though he were a child who was trying to act particularly cute.

It was best to get straight down to business. "So, what can I do for you?"

The human raised an eyebrow. "One scan and we're straight to business? People are usually more concerned about who I am."

"Your death was hardly what I call a secret," she drawled, doing her best to give the impression that her demise was a matter beneath her notice. "I had to make sure it was really you. You could have been anyone. Anything. Whatever you need will come out on its own. I'm curious, but Omega doesn't really care about you."

The Commander seemed completely unperturbed by the casual dismissal, however. "So I guess you must know what's what on Omega," she said, leaning back casually.

Aria resisted the urge to scowl. Oh, she was good. This human knew a thing or two about subtlety. It was evident that she didn't get to be the first human Spectre just because of her pretty face.

"I know everything that's worth knowing. I don't usually give it out freely. Information is power," she answered.

"Mundane things, you can find yourself. Take a walk in a back alley, or buy one of the mercs a drink. Better yet, talk to the entertainers. They give great tours. Just don't waste my time."

The underlying implication was clear: get to the point or get the hell out. Fortunately the human seemed to get the message, if the way she sat up was any indication.

"I'm looking for Mordin Solus. Do you know where I can find him?"

Aria was slightly surprised. "The salarian doctor? Last I heard, he was trying to help plague victims in the quarantine zone." A small grin spread over her face. "I've always liked Mordin. He's as likely to heal you as he is to shoot you."

She left out the part where Mordin Solus was the only salarian to have ever broken Omega's one rule (in more ways than one) and still survived. That was a secret she planned to carry to the grave.

Shepard leaned forward. "What can you tell me about him?"

"Used to be part of the salarian Special Tasks Group. He's brilliant and dangerous. Just don't get him talking," she grimaced. "He never shuts up."

"If you really need to find him, just take a shuttle to the quarantine zone. No guarantee the guards will let you in, of course."

A lie if there ever was one. A subtle glance at Grizz and the turian was already relaying orders to let Shepard's team through to the slums. There was no way that Aria was going to miss up on an opportunity to see Commander Shepard in action. Any insights she gleaned by observing the human's fighting style would be invaluable later.

"Of course," Shepard nodded, getting to her feet. "Thanks for the information."

"Yes. Just try not to bring the plague back with you."

She watched with narrowed eyes as the Commander and her companions walked away, her hand coming up to scratch her chin slightly.

Throughout the conversation Aria had taken care special care to study the other three people Shepard had brought with her. The dark-skinned human male had been standing ramrod straight, eyes darting suspiciously around him and slightly a disgusted expression on her face (a former soldier; naïve, inexperienced with the darker side of the galaxy), the pale-looking human female had looked bored but alert (competent, intelligent; but a touch overconfident), and the turian. . .

The turian had been the most peculiar of them all.

He'd looked. . . agitated. While he had done his best to keep his face as stony as possible, someone with Aria could tell from the way his mandibles quivered at the tips that he was extremely nervous.

Which was strange, in her opinion. The turian's body language practically screamed competence. The way he carried himself suggested that he had a very good idea of how to use the weapons on his back, and Aria could safely say that between him and Shepard they could put up enough of a fight to seriously inconvenience even someone like her.

Then why the hell had he seemed so nervous!? Why had he been so determined to avoid her gaze? Just who the hell was he!?

Unbidden, a memory returned to Aria: a memory of another mysterious turian who had appeared on Omega two years ago, right on the heels of Benezia's daughter. A turian who rounded up Butler and all those troublemakers so silently that even Aria's network hadn't been able to track him until the entire group had left the station.

What was his name again? Angel or something?

Aria frowned slightly. She knew that Benezia's daughter had once been a part of Shepard's crew. Was it possible that both these turians were the same person? What were the odds. . . ?

"Grizz," she called out suddenly.

"Yes, Aria?"

"Call up our informants. I have a job for them."

* * *

Garrus gave a huge sigh of relief as they walked out of Afterlife.

 _Damn, I feel like I just shaved a few years off my life. . ._

Aria T'Loak had always made him nervous. Highly intelligent, cunning, ruthless. . . she was the kind of asari that made a man want to sleep with his eyes open and a gun under his bed every night. Garrus had probably been more nervous while in her presence than he had been while facing Sovereign back on Virmire.

 _Score one to the turian for remembering to remove the Broker's logo from his armor before landing here. . ._

Even at the very height of Archangel's power back in the previous timeline, Garrus had been very careful to avoid her and his operations. He'd hated himself back then for his weakness; his naiveté leading him to believe that she was no different from any of the other thugs on this Spirits-forsaken rock.

It was only much later that he'd understood.

He glanced at Omega's skyline as they made their way towards the slums. For all the evil Aria was responsible for, she was perhaps the only person in the galaxy capable of bringing a semblance of order to this place. This he knew from experience.

He had given everything to Omega: his youth, his skills, his sense of justice, his genuine to desire to do well for the galaxy, to follow Shepard's example. . . .

And what did it give him in return?

His team slaughtered, dead because of a cowardly traitor; two years of his hard work undone in a matter of days; himself trapped in his apartment, putting up a desperate fight which he knew would be his last, as the very same people he and his men fought so hard to protect lined up in droves to put a bullet into his skull. . .

And all for what: five hundred credits!?

He remembered how much his blood had boiled back then when Shepard had told him about the freelancers; ordinary people picking up guns and lining up before the mercs to take a shot at him. After everything he and his team had done for them: cleaning up the streets, protecting them from exploitation and harm, saving countless lives . . . and they were falling over each other to take a shot at him just for _five hundred freaking_ credits!?

Stuff like that was enough to make even the most law-abiding turian give up on the galaxy.

He knew he was being a little harsh. This was Omega after all, the galaxy's biggest hive of scum and villainy. Betrayal was as ubiquitous as the air, and if he had to be honest with himself he could have found much better places to go around delivering his brand of justice. There was also the fact that his whole team had long since accepted the likelihood that for all their good work, they'd most likely meet their end in some disgusting urine-soaked alley of this horrible station. But a part of him was still indignant about the incredibly bad hand fate had dealt him in this place. Surely all the lives he had saved should have counted for something? Surely some of the people he'd helped should have come to his aid, his team's aid?

Sometimes he really wondered how he'd managed to stay sane through all that. His team's death, his horrible disfigurement, his mother's terminal illness, the Suicide Mission and the Reapers, it was a miracle he hadn't had a complete breakdown. . .

"Garrus? Garrus! Hey!"

He started slightly. "Sorry about that, Commander. You were saying?"

Shepard looked at him suspiciously. "I was asking you if you were sure about coming along, what with the plague and all."

"I won't let a simple cough stop me from following you, Shepard."

She frowned slightly. "Alright. But keep your helmet on; and after we're done you are reporting to Chakwas for a check-up. Clear?"

"Understood."

"Okay, then," Shepard announced, striding over to the entrance to the plague-zone. "Let's go say 'Hi' to Dr Solus."

* * *

After slaughtering their way through a few dozen Blue Suns mercs and vorcha (and in Shepard's case, robbing the hell out of nearby apartments) the fabulous five found themselves walking into the clinic of Omega's resident salarian scientist extraordinaire.

Garrus removed his helmet and shook his fringe out slightly. "Ah, clean, filtered air."

"So where's the doctor?" Shepard said, looking around.

He cocked his head to the side and grinned slightly. "Just follow the babbling, Commander."

"What?"

Fighting hard to conceal a smirk, Garrus led the group deeper into the clinic.

"Use malanarin. Plenty on hand. Almost as good," a rapid voice said as they got closer. "Causes cramping in batarians. Supplement with butemerol."

"Dr Solus?" Shepard asked to the room at large.

Mordin Solus looked exactly like Garrus remembered. A pale salarian with a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek and right horn clearly missing, he walked over and waved his omni-tool at them.

"Hmm," he said. "Don't recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause. The plague? Investigating possible use as a bio-weapon? No. Too many guns, not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists. Yes, yes, yes!"

He moved closer, regarding them as though they were some particularly interesting microbes on a petri-dish. "Hired guns, maybe? Looking for someone? Yes! But who? Someone important. Valuable. Someone with secrets. Someone like. . . me."

"Gee, however you did you know?" Shepard seemed to be physically restraining herself from rolling her eyes, if her sarcastic tone was any indication. "Never mind. Don't answer that," she hastily added as Mordin made to open his mouth again. "I'm Commander Shepard and I'm here to recruit you for a mission."

"Mission? What mission? No. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?"

"We represent Cerberus, Dr Solus," Miranda declared, as though that was supposed to impress him.

Mordin turned his large eyes on her. "Cerberus? What is this ' _Cerberus_ '? Charity? Fan club? Enkindler witnesses? No, no, no. . . humans, not hanar." He looked her up and down. "Bondage club, maybe?"

"What!?" Miranda squawked.

"Tight costume, yourself and the male. Aware of human sexual fetishes. Whips, leathers, ball gags. . . variety of paraphernalia. Quite intriguing."

"I. . . that's. . ."

"Very kind of you to offer. But must decline. Rather old for such things. Not to mention salarians have little sex drive. . ."

"No!" Miranda screamed. "You. . . you've got it wrong! We're not. . ."

"Apologies. Made wrong conclusion due to insufficient data. Did not mean to offend."

Judging from Miranda's seething expression, the doctor's apology wasn't enough. Shepard, however, seemed to think otherwise.

She leaned towards Garrus, her face flushed with barely-restrained laughter. "I think I like this guy."

This drew Mordin's attention to the turian for the first time. "Turian. Walking around in plague zone. Turian physiology rather resilient." He ran his omni-tool over Garrus. "Must ask: experiencing any symptoms?"

"Erm. . ." Garrus blinked slowly. "I do feel a slight cough, I guess."

Mordin nodded rapidly and then, in one fluid motion, stabbed him in the side of the neck with a needle.

"Ow!" Garrus rubbed his neck. "What was that for?" he demanded indignantly.

"Simple immunobooster. Should prevent infection from spreading."

"Oh. Well. . . thanks, Doctor."

"Not to worry, not to worry. Now, must get back to work. Lots of patients."

"About the mission. . ." Shepard began.

"No, no, no. Much too busy. Cannot leave. Must stop plague first. Already have a cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it." He took a deep breath. "Need to kill them."

"How about we do that for you?"

Mordin blinked rapidly. "Pardon?"

"Well, you're pretty busy here; and you've got five heavily armed fighters standing right in front of you. How about you let us handle it?" Shepard suggested.

"And in return, you require assistance on mission?"

"Well, yeah. Not that I'm trying to force you or anything. It's just that the Collectors are abducting entire colonies and. . ."

"Collectors? Interesting." Mordin tapped his chin with a long finger. "Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar."

He'd barely finished when the vents above them shut down with a loud, grinding sound.

"That didn't sound good," Zaeed pointed out helpfully.

"Hmmm. Vorcha have shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Need to get power back on before district suffocates." He stepped forward with a phial. "Here, take plague cure. Also, bonus in good faith - weapons from dead Blue Suns mercs. May come in handy against vorcha."

Never one to turn down free stuff, Shepard pocketed the Carniflex pistol.

"One more thing. One of my assistants, Daniel. Went into vorcha territory. Looking for victims." He took a breath before finishing, "Hasn't come back."

"We'll find him," Shepard said reassuringly.

"Thank you. Restore power. Will wait for you to return."

* * *

"Shepard, pyro on your six!" Zaeed warned.

"I see him," Shepard confirmed. "Garrus, take him out! Zaeed, cover me! Miranda, warp that krogan and Jacob, you disorient that sucker!"

A explosion from behind confirmed that Garrus had just overloaded the pyro's fuel tank. Ignoring the vorcha's screams, Shepard emptied her assault rifle into the floating krogan in front of her. She then turned around and, in one smooth motion, drew the Carniflex and shot the flailing vorcha in the head.

"Nice," she looked approvingly at the heavy pistol.

"Yeah, pretty effective against these bastards," Zaeed nudged what remained of the vorcha's corpse with his foot.

"Yeah. Wonder whose bright idea was it to arm vorcha with flame-throwers?"

"A lot of things here don't make much sense," Miranda frowned. "I wouldn't have thought that the vorcha would have the capability to run an operation like this one before today."

"But why would the vorcha spread a plague that affects humans?" Jacob wondered aloud.

"Maybe they're a bunch of vorcha supremacists, fighting to protect vorcha interests across the galaxy," Shepard suggested. "I wonder who their leader would be. The Illusive Vorcha, perhaps?"

Jacob snorted. The other Cerberus operative didn't seem to find it so amusing however, and she sniffed disdainfully before moving ahead. Shepard glared at her retreating back and motioned for Zaeed to follow her.

"Sorry about that," Jacob sighed. "Miranda's not like this most of the time. She's just. . . under a lot of pressure, I guess."

"Yeah? Well, she's not the only one," Shepard muttered darkly.

"You're right. But Miranda's not like you, Commander. She's. . . well, she doesn't handle rejection very well."

"I'm not rejecting her! I'm rejecting Cerberus," Shepard growled.

"To her, it might as well be the same thing," Jacob shrugged. "To be honest, Miranda was never really expecting the both of you to get along, but I suppose a part of her was really hoping you'd come round to her point of view sometime, y'know?"

"If she wants to get along she's going to have to meet me half-way, Jacob. I won't babysit a grown woman. And I don't care what you and or anyone else says, I'll _never_ trust Cerberus!"

"Noted." Jacob paused before asking. "Do you trust _me_ , Commander?"

Shepard carefully considered her answer. She knew that the man was former Alliance; indeed she'd met several young marines like him throughout her career. From what Garrus and Liara had told her, he was one of those who'd supposedly joined Cerberus out of frustration with the Alliance's methods. A simple and straightforward man, not as unintelligent as Shepard initially believed; and from what she'd seen so far, definitely a dedicated fighter.

Perhaps one day she'd be glad to have him at her back.

"You're a good man, Jacob. But you might be working for the wrong people."

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But Cerberus is still the one out here doing something about all those colonists. So I think I'll stick with them for now."

"I can respect that," she nodded.

"Speaking of respect," Jacob turned towards Garrus. "We didn't exactly get a chance to talk back then."

"Yeah," the turian said slowly.

Jacob took a deep breath. "Look man, I know our first meeting wasn't that good. But I haven't forgotten about the time you spent fighting with the Commander. Not to mention you're here, fighting with us, while so many humans out there don't give a damn about what's happening to all those innocent people."

He shifted awkwardly on his feet. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't trust the Broker any more than you trust Cerberus. But as long as you're fighting with us. . ."

He held out one hand. Garrus flared his mandibles in a genuine smile and shook it without hesitation. "Thanks, Jacob."

"Don't mention it," he nodded politely.

Shepard turned away, a soft smile playing across her lips. Looks like this mission wasn't going to be so dark and depressing, after all.

* * *

 **AN: To me, Aria's introduction scene in ME2 was the point where I was really sold on the game. The direction and dialogue is simply fantastic, and you've got** **Carrie-Anne Moss (Trinity from the Matrix, for those of you who don't know) voicing her. What's not there to love?**

 **I also decided to flesh out Jacob's character a little bit, since he's just too. . . generic in the game.  
**

 **Next up: Garrus and Miranda have a long overdue conversation. Meanwhile, Tevos is gathering allies for the coming storm. But she's not alone, as the Illusive Man gets ready to make his next move to gain control over Commander Shepard. How will things play out?  
**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	10. The Next Step Forward

**_London. Earth._**

Lieutenant Adam Rockwell of the Systems Alliance Internal Affairs fidgeted uncomfortably as he waited for the call to connect. It had taken weeks for him to gather all the relevant information without drawing any unnecessary attention. He just prayed that it would be enough.

He straightened up instinctively as his benefactor's holo fired up. "Sir," he saluted.

"Lieutenant Rockwell," the Illusive Man nodded his greeting. "I trust this is everything?"

"Yes, sir. The file I sent has everything you asked for. Sir."

The Illusive Man looked to the side, presumably reading through the file Rockwell had just sent him.

"The only one whose location I was unable to confirm was Dr Karin Chakwas," Rockwell added nervously. "And Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau, of course, but he's almost on the verge of being kicked out of the Alliance. . ."

"Jeff Moreau and Karin Chakwas are on a mission for Cerberus," the Illusive Man absentmindedly said. Ignoring the younger man's shocked expression, he turned to him and asked, "How goes the other part of your assignment?"

"Not. . not that well, I'm afraid. Sir," he stammered.

The Illusive Man's face showed no outward reaction, his cybernetic eyes staring as blankly as ever. For some reason, this frightened Rockwell even more. "Explain."

"I-I did as you asked, sir. I made sure the entire Admiralty board received Shepard's video. I also passed on a message to the rest of our circle, instructing them to slander her reputation as much as they could. Unfortunately," he swallowed. "Unfortunately it's turning out to be much harder than we anticipated. Our factions are pushing to have her dishonorably discharged and declared a traitor to the Alliance, but the others are. . . well, ignoring us. It's almost as if. . as if someone is trying to counter us."

The Illusive Man took a long swig of his cigarette. "Hackett," he said firmly.

Rockwell nodded. "And Councilor Anderson too, I guess. They're currently among Shepard's most vocal supporters."

The Illusive Man remained silent, his blank stare unnerving Rockwell even more. More to break the uncomfortable silence than anything else, Rockwell spoke, "Sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Do you think. . . there's any way. . . we could. . ."

The Illusive Man stared at the stuttering man for a few moments. "I hope you are not about to suggest that we assassinate the Commander in Chief of Earth's largest fleet and humanity's representative at the Citadel Council over such a trivial matter, Lieutenant."

"Er. . I . . of course not. . ."

The Illusive Man took a small sip of his drink. "Misguided though their faith in Shepard may be, at the end of the day Hackett and Anderson are far too valuable to be harmed. Humanity will be in need of their leadership soon."

"Sir?"

"Never mind, Lieutenant. Now, regarding the data you submitted," he glanced sideways once again. "I need you to do another small favor for me."

"Anything sir!" Rockwell said earnestly.

"I need you to get Operations Chief Williams transferred to the colony of Horizon."

"Horizon. But why, sir?"

Rockwell regretted the words as soon as they escaped his mouth. But the Illusive Man didn't seem to be annoyed by his outburst. If anything, he looked thoughtful.

"I suppose there's no harm in telling you. You are aware that the Collectors are abducting human colonies?"

"Yes, sir."

"Our analysts have tried to predict the next colony the Collectors might attack for quite some time, and they feel it's just a matter of time before Horizon is hit. We also have a . . theory that the Collectors are obsessed with Shepard, and by connection her former team."

"So by posting Williams there, you're planning to kill two birds with one stone," Rockwell nodded in understanding.

"Precisely, Lieutenant."

"But why Williams, sir?"

The Illusive Man exhaled another cloud of smoke. "Our analysts believed that the chances of this gambit's success would be higher if we chose someone from Shepard's ground team, thus narrowing our choices down to Lt. Commander Alenko and Operations Chief Williams. But Alenko's been posted at Alliance HQ, and it would be difficult to provide a reasonable explanation to shift him groundside, especially to a far off colony like Horizon."

"And Williams has had plenty of groundside postings before, so it'd be much less suspicious," Rockwell finished.

The Illusive Man gave him a cold smile. "Precisely. That, and the fact that Alenko's biotics make him far more valuable to humanity than Williams."

Rockwell swallowed slightly. "Of course, sir."

"We will, of course, require a reasonable cover for Chief Williams' transfer," the Illusive man casually added.

Rockwell racked his brains for a suitable idea. "We could send her with a few defense towers, claiming the Alliance is trying to beef up security at Horizon," he suggested.

"An excellent idea," the Illusive Man agreed. "It might prove invaluable to the colony's defense if. . . no, _when_ the Collectors decide to attack."

He took another puff of his cigarette. "I shall leave this in your capable hands, Lieutenant. Remember, humanity is counting on you." The call went dead before Rockwell could respond.

The young Lieutenant sighed and wiped his sweaty brow. For the first time in a long while, he wondered if he'd done the right thing by letting Cerberus turn him into their puppet.

But humanity needed someone to look after them, didn't they? Someone to protect them from the aliens? Was it so wrong that he was helping Cerberus do what needed to be done?

Shaking his head, he set about removing all traces of his communication with the Illusive Man.

The fact that he'd just doomed the lives of thousands of colonists just to test a theory for the Illusive Man did not even register in his mind.

* * *

 ** _Aria's apartment. Omega._**

Aria T'Loak lounged on the sofa of her private residence. "Is this all of it?" she asked, staring at a OSD in her hand.

"It is, Aria," her subordinate confirmed.

"Alright. Tell them. . ." She paused as Grizz stepped forward. "What is it?"

"You have a call, Aria."

"From whom?"

He bent towards her, whispering her ear. Aria's expression remained unchanged, except for a slight lift at the corners of her mouth.

She turned back to the asari waiting on her. "Tell them to bring the shipment through. You and Anto will supervise it together."

"Understood," the asari bowed low.

"Good. Now leave me alone. That means you too, Grizz."

The Queen of Omega waited until everyone was gone before using her omni-tool to activate her private communications hub. She then sat back and sipped a cocktail as the holo fired up.

"Aria."

"Councilor," she tilted her head, the barest hint of mockery in her voice.

But Tevos didn't rise to the bait. "Your message said you had something important."

Aria smiled wryly. "Come now, Lismenea. Aren't you even going to ask how I'm doing?"

The asari Councilor narrowed her eyes. "I don't have the patience for your games, Aria."

"That's funny. I seem to remember a time when you enjoyed my games immensely," she teased.

Tevos shook her head. "This is a waste of time." She moved to cut off the call.

"Your golden girl was here a few days ago," Aria said loudly, causing Tevos to halt in her tracks.

"What?"

"Commander Jane Shepard. Systems Alliance. Your favorite human. Saved your blue ass a couple years ago when the geth attacked your beloved Citadel." Aria smiled wickedly. "Any of that ring a bell?"

"If this is your idea of a joke. . !"

In response, Aria simply transmitted a picture to the other asari. A snapshot from the surveillance footage of Afterlife. "I don't joke about such things, Lismenea."

Tevos closely examined the photo of the red-haired Commander seated on a couch next to Aria. "You are certain that is her?"

"I compared footage of her conversation and combat with STG files from the archives. It's her. No doubt about that."

"How did you even get access to the STG files?" Tevos pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Never mind. I don't want to know. What was she doing on Omega?"

"Recruiting, by the looks of things," Aria answered. "She was only here for a few hours. Long enough to pick up two people: Zaeed Massani and Mordin Solus."

Tevos squinted at the holo. "And her companions? Did you identify them?"

"The turian you might recognize: Garrus Vakarian. He was part of Shepard's old crew."

She nodded. "I remember him. He's former Citadel Security. He was the one who brought us the evidence of Saren's involvement with the Geth."

"The other two are Cerberus Operatives: Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor."

Tevos' eyes widened slightly. "Cerberus? You are certain?"

Aria nodded and sipped her drink. "There's a salarian on my station named Ish. He recognized those two right away. As for whether Shepard herself has joined Cerberus or not, I couldn't tell you. But she did arrive here on a frigate which looked a lot like her old ship, except for the Cerberus logo on it. Make of that what you will."

"Goddess," Tevos sighed. "This keeps getting worse and worse."

For a few minutes Aria contemplated the distressed asari in silence. Then she spoke. "If it helps, I think Shepard isn't working _for_ Cerberus as much as she's working _with_ them. My sources claimed she went to a lot of trouble to help as many people as she could while she was here, including aliens. Not the sort of thing a pro-human extremist does."

"I suppose that certainly is some comfort," Tevos sighed. "At this point, I'm willing to take whatever I can get." She fixed the Queen of Omega with a neutral expression. "Thank you, Aria. You have no idea how much you've helped me just now."

"Don't thank me, Councilor," Aria said dismissively. "You of all people should know I don't do things for free."

"Of course," Tevos nodded. She waited a few more moments before asking, almost hesitantly. "How is Liselle doing?"

"She's fine," Aria replied, the grip on her drink tightening slightly. "Doing great, in fact. Kid's all ready to join the family business." She gave the other asari a predatory grin. "What can I say? She takes after her mother, after all."

"Must you really involve her in your line of work, Aria? Couldn't you have found something better for her to do?"

"She's my daughter, Lismenea," Aria said sharply. " _My_ daughter. Do you honestly expect her to do any less?" She drained her glass. "And where do you get off lecturing me on how I should raise my kid, anyway!?"

"She's not just your child, Aria," Tevos said flatly.

"She's not? What a surprise! I recall you saying something very different all those centuries ago," Aria sneered.

Tevos closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "That's not fair," she said quietly. "You _know_ things weren't that simple back then."

"Oh please. Spare me that load of elcor-dung!" Aria snarled. "You threw me and our child away for the sake of your political career! You were so scared of those old crones at Thessia finding out that you had a pureblood for a daughter that you turned your back on a one-year old baby! How is any of that _not_ simple?" She shook her head in disgust. "And people say _I'm_ a heartless bitch!"

"Aria, I. . ." Tevos halted and bowed her head. Doing her best to disguise the anguish in her voice, she whispered, "Do you really think I've never wished that things had turned out differently for us?"

Aria did not reply, merely turning her back on the other asari. For some reason the cold dismissal hurt more than any of her barbed words.

For a few minutes the room was silent, until Tevos spoke. "Do you remember that time, a century ago, when Liselle and her mercenary friends attacked a transport ship belonging to the NDC? Did you ever wonder why they never pursued her to Omega?"

Aria did not answer.

"Or that time when Liselle ran afoul of the Eclipse sisters on Ilium? Or the time when. . ."

"Stop. Just stop," Aria snapped. She turned around to face the asari Councilor. "What's the point you're trying to make?"

"The point is," Tevos said, glaring at the mother of her child with eyes full of unshed tears, "that you're not the only one who watches over our daughter."

And she disconnected the call.

Aria spent a few minutes glaring at the spot where her hologram had been.

On Omega, information was power. Aria had, over the centuries, maintained a strict policy to never hand it out for free. And yet, when it came _her_ , she simply couldn't help herself.

Why? What was the point? After all these centuries, after all the different partners she'd been with? Since when the hell had she become so. . . so fucking sentimental?

Aria sighed and mixed herself another drink, before practically falling backwards into her sofa.

Fuck feelings. They were nothing but a waste of time.

* * *

 ** _Normandy SR2._**

"Commander, you have new messages on your private terminal."

Shepard resisted the urge to scowl at her yeoman, choosing to simply nod politely before stepping forward to check on her messages. Bad enough the Illusive Man's agent was keeping tabs on her every move, now she had to go and rub her nose into it as well.

For that was what all this really was. Oh yes, Commander Shepard was much too smart to not see through to Kelly Chambers' true intentions! Any ordinary person might have observed this exchange and simply assumed that it was a diligent yeoman doing her job. But Shepard was much too intelligent and world-weary to not see the truth.

This was a power-play, an assertion of dominance at its simplest. By telling Shepard that there were unread messages on her private terminal, Chambers was effectively reminding her that she had full access to her privacy whenever she wanted.

 _Look at this. I control such a personal aspect of your life. I control you!_ That was the real message Kelly Chambers was ending across. She was effectively reminding Shepard that _she_ was the person incharge, that it was at _her_ mercy that Shepard had command of the Normandy.

 _Damn. Who knew gingers could be so evil?_

One of the messages in her inbox caught her attention. It was from Anderson! And it seemed like he was asking her to meet up with him on the Citadel.

Shepard stepped up to the galaxy map, frowning slightly. On one hand she really did want to catch up with her mentor and sort out matters with the Council, on the other hand they were barely a day's journey away from Korlus where they had to pick up Okeer.

She debated asking Joker to change course before dismissing the idea immediately. They were much too close to their target now, and there was nothing in Anderson's message that hinted at any urgency. Besides, Shepard privately thought it would be best to have a krogan warlord in her corner before she dropped into the Citadel on a ship belonging to a bunch of pro-human terrorists.

Decision made, she nodded to herself and turned around, only to nearly run head-first into her yeoman.

"Er. . . something you need, Chambers?"

The girl shot her a bright smile. "I told you to call me Kelly, Commander."

"Er. . . right. Kelly." She swallowed. "What do you want?"

Chambers continued to fix her with that unnerving smile. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you, Commander?"

Shepard nearly had a heart attack.

 _She knows! She knows I was up all night playing Galaxy of Fantasy 3 on my giant holo screen! Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. . . ._

The part of her mind that wasn't gibbering in terror worked furiously to figure out how Chambers could possibly have known that. She'd been careful to remove every single surveillance bug in her room on the first day, and regularly used that AI blocking software whenever she needed a little bit of privacy.

Then how the hell did Kelly Chambers still manage to spy on her!?

It took Shepard a few moments to realize that the yeoman was still talking. ". . . pretty thoughtless of them, but I was brought in only after the construction on the ship was complete. And with our mission being as urgent as it was, there simply wasn't any time to modify it."

Shepard blinked slowly. "What're you talking about?"

"The skylight in your room, of course," she answered brightly. "The one over your bed? That's the reason you've been unable to sleep, isn't it?"

"Er. . . well, I. . ."

"It's alright, Commander. There's nothing to be ashamed of." Chambers patted her arm reassuringly. "You died in the vacuum of space, after all. It's pretty understandable that you would be still be suffering with a little bit of PTSD."

Shepard privately thought that the idea of her suffering from PTSD just from looking at space through a window above her bed was pretty ridiculous. She was a spacer kid, for crying out loud. She'd spent more of her life on ships than she had planet-side; not to mention she'd experienced things in her N7 training which were far worse than being spaced.

Naturally, she had no desire to explain that to the evil ginger before her.

"Erm. . . right," she nodded. "The skylight. It. . . er. . keeps me awake at night. So, yeah. . I haven't been sleeping much."

"I understand, Commander. If you want to talk about it, I could perhaps schedule a private session. Just the two of us."

 _A private session!?_

Shepard had a sudden vision of herself strapped to an operating table with Chambers smirking down at her evilly, buzzsaw in one hand and a control chip in the other.

"I'll remember that," she squeaked. "Thanks. . . Kelly."

The yeoman shot her another bright smile before walking back to her station. Shepard stiffly walked out of the command center, exhaling a loud sigh of relief only when she was out of earshot.

Crazy former-Spectres she could handle, galaxy-annihilating cuttlefish AI she could fight, but dealing with someone like Kelly Chambers was beyond even her skill.

 _Maybe we should put her in a missile and launch her at the Reapers. See if they'd still want to annihilate us after dealing with her for five minutes. . ._

Sighing once again, Shepard marched off towards the cockpit. Perhaps chatting with the witty pilot for a while would help take her mind off her problems.

* * *

Meanwhile down on the crew deck, Garrus Vakarian was preparing to deal with some problems of his own.

"EDI," he called out. "Is XO Lawson in her office?"

The AI's blue orb popped up next to the wall. "She is, Gunnery Officer Vakarian. Shall I alert her that you wish to see her?"

"Ah. . . no, that'll be fine. Thanks, EDI. Oh, and call me Garrus; Officer Vakarian is my dad."

EDI's orb blinked once, as though the AI was trying to process the ramifications of his unusual request. "Understood. Logging you out, Garrus."

Rolling his stiff shoulders, Garrus walked out of the Battery, nodding his hellos to the crewmen and giving Chakwas a brief smile through the Med Bay windows. He then halted outside Miranda's door, took a deep breath and knocked.

The doors swished open to reveal the brunette typing away at her console. Without waiting for an invitation, Garrus calmly strolled in, stopping before her desk.

"So," he cleared his throat and glanced around. "Nice office you have here."

The Cerberus Operative didn't respond, continuing to type away at her terminal as though he wasn't even there.

Garrus decided to try again. "Do you have a few minutes to talk, XO Lawson?"

"No, I don't," came the terse reply. "I'm quite busy."

"I just want five minutes of your time. That's all."

The woman stopped typing and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms and fixing him with a baleful glare. "Then please get to the point quickly. Some of us have actual work to do, _Officer_ Vakarian."

Garrus suppressed a heavy sigh. He and Miranda had never been particularly close in the previous timeline, but they'd respected each others' skills enough to at least have a professional conversation. Seeing such open hostility in the human woman's gaze was. . . troubling, to say the least.

But there was nothing to gain by dwelling on the past. Garrus knew Miranda Lawson well enough to know that the woman absolutely abhorred weakness. If he wanted to get through to her, he'd have to push harder.

He casually took a seat opposite her desk, noting the slight narrowing of her eyes as he made himself comfortable. Leaning back as much as the human-shaped chair would allow, he crossed his own arms and regarded her coolly.

"You and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things," he began slowly. "And frankly, I don't care if we ever do. But taking out your displeasure on Shepard isn't going to help in the slightest."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," she deadpanned.

"Stop trying to act stupid, Lawson; it doesn't suit you." He smirked slightly at the expression of stunned outrage on her face. "We both know we have issues, and we both know that those issues mean nothing compared to the importance of this mission. It's best we talk about it now before one of us does something we'll all regret."

Miranda closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You're right, we have a lot of issues we need to. . . _discuss_ thoroughly. Why don't we start with the most urgent one?" She leaned forward slightly. "Why don't we start by discussing the time when you threatened to destroy my sister's life about half a year ago?"

Garrus fought hard to keep his face impassive. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Stop trying to act stupid, Vakarian; it doesn't suit you," she snarked back. "We both know you were working for the Broker well before Shepard regained consciousness. You were there when your boss threatened to reveal Oriana's existence to my father! Just admit it!"

"I. . ."

"In fact," she interrupted him. "I would even go as far as to say that _you_ were the one who suggested the idea to the Broker to begin with."

"That's ridiculous!"

"No. No, it isn't." She got to her feet and leaned across the desk threateningly. "You forget, Garrus Vakarian, that I've been doing wet-work for Cerberus for the last two decades. During that period I've defied the Shadow Broker countless times, the most recent one being when I rescued your dear Commander's body." Her eyes narrowed further. "If the Broker really wanted to hurt me through Oriana, he would have done it then."

"Then there was the Broker's strange request. Why would he demand that I not install a control chip in Shepard's brain? Someone like the Broker who thrives on information, who thrives on control would be looking for ways to exploit the situation to his advantage; not revealing his hand with such brazen threats."

The frostiness in her voice seemed to make the entire room grow colder. "The only person who would make such a move is someone who actually _cares_ about the Commander, someone who is willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people he cares for. And out of all of Shepard's associates, the only person capable of going so far is you, Garrus Vakarian."

Garrus was impressed in spite of himself. He had been on the other side of the table long enough to recognize a good interrogator when he saw one. He decided it was best to come clean. "Alright. You got me. I was the one who advised the Broker to threaten your sister."

"However," he narrowed his eyes. "That does not give you right to take the moral high ground, especially considering that you were trying to stick a control chip in my best friend's skull."

Miranda drew herself up in outrage. "I had every _right_ to consider that! Shepard. . ."

". . . owes you nothing!" he snarled. "Get this through your damn head Lawson, Shepard never _asked_ to be brought back from the dead! She's paid her debt to humanity and to the galaxy a thousand times over! She died as a soldier doing her duty; and let me tell you right now, whatever anyone else may think about that, Shepard has never once thought of herself as being too good to die."

Miranda crossed her arms and turned away dismissively. "That's all well and good, Vakarian," she sneered. "But Cerberus spent billions of credits to bring her back. Billions! We had every right to secure our investment!"

Garrus got to his feet, and the expression on his face was so terrible that Miranda actually took a half step back. For the first time since he'd entered the room she realized just how tall he was, and how threatening a seven-foot tall armored turian could possibly be.

"Shepard is nobody's investment," he said, the coldness in his voice putting even the Ice Queen of Cerberus to shame. "All the credits in the galaxy wouldn't be enough to repay her for what she's done. And you would do well to remember that!"

His sudden outburst seemed to have flustered her slightly, but Miranda wasn't one to back down easily. "Shepard is vital to the fight against the Reapers. The entire galaxy is counting on her to do what needs to be done when they do decide to attack us directly! If treating her like an investment does the job, then it must be done."

He grimaced slightly when she turned away once again, her jaw still set in that stubborn manner. He really hadn't wanted to turn this into an argument, but the woman was just so damn infuriating. . .

 _Calm down._ The rational part of his mind (that always suspiciously sounded like Shepard) said. _She's not the enemy._

That's right. As annoying Miranda Lawson could be, she wasn't the enemy. Far from it, in fact. Whatever else she might've done in the past, the fact remained that this was the same woman who had spent two decades putting herself in harm's way just to give her sister a chance to live a normal life; a sister who, incidentally, did not even know of her existence. This was also the same woman who, in the previous timeline, had single-handedly infiltrated Cerberus' biggest bio-weapons facility and fought their most dangerous assassin to a standstill. She died trying to save her younger sibling, and even then she'd managed to help Shepard by giving them the location of the Illusive Man's base of operations.

No, Miranda Lawson was a good woman. A better woman than most gave her credit for. Maybe it was time she realized it herself.

Then inspiration struck him. "So you're saying," he said slowly. "That the ends justify the means?"

"Precisely."

"I see. That's a great way of thinking," he drawled. "But correct me if I'm wrong, that _was_ what your father was thinking when he created you and your sister, wasn't it?"

It was an extremely low blow, and Garrus knew it. But he also knew that it was the only way he was going to get through to her. It was way past time that someone showed her what she was slowly turning into.

Miranda looked like she'd just been slapped. "What did you say to me?" she whispered dangerously.

"You heard exactly what I said, Lawson. Don't pretend you didn't."

"Get out." Her face was flushed red with anger, her entire body quivered with barely-suppressed rage and the tell-tale signs of biotics were dancing on her clenched fists. "Get out of my office!"

Garrus turned around and walked away, pausing at the door for a parting shot. "You know, for someone who claims to have spent her entire life running away from a megalomaniac, you're really doing a good job of becoming one yourself."

He turned his head to give her a sidelong glance. "Talking about control chips and taking away people's free will for the greater good. Henry Lawson would be proud of you, Miranda."

And he left, leaving the Cerberus Operative to sit down heavily in her chair, feeling more stunned and upset than she'd ever felt before.

Sleep would not come easily to Miranda Lawson that night.

* * *

 **AN: So yeah, pretty serious chapter this time round. Hope the Shepard and Kelly scene made up for it though :)  
**

 **To clarify, I'm not hating on Miranda at all. If anything, I actually like her a lot, but I despise the fact that Bioware chose to ignore the potential her character offered. Her desertion of Cerberus at the end of ME2 is a bit too sudden for someone who's worked for the organization for so long, especially since she spends the entire game spewing their dogma. Hence my attempt at showing a more realistic transition in this story. Miranda's change of heart will be slow and gradual, and will be influenced by various plot-points as well.  
**

 **Of course, Miranda will continue to act as a foil for the crazy Commander, just like Ashley was to Garrus in OMITF (seriously, just go back and count the number of times she says "Dammit, Vakarian!" in the first fic).**

 **I must confess, I'm not particularly a TevosxAria shipper, but the fanfiction community has spoiled me. Not to worry though, their romance won't overshadow our lead couple. This is a Shakarian fic through and through.  
**

 **Also, I'm sure you guys have noticed that I've changed Alenko's rank to Lt Commander instead of Staff Commander as it is in the game. I did this because it's completely unrealistic to assume that Alenko, who was a Lieutenant in ME1, would advance two whole grades in a span of only two years, especially since a promotion to Staff Commander requires one to serve as an LC for at least three years (in the US Navy anyway). There's also the fact that Shepard herself, for all her accomplishments, is only an LC at the start of ME1.**

 **Next up: Tevos unearths more disturbing news about the asari government. Meanwhile, Shepard and co take a trip to Korlus to retrieve the next member of their team.  
**

 **Stay tuned :)**


	11. Wait! A Krogan Scientist?

**AN: A very Happy Thanksgiving to all! Enjoy them turkeys :)  
**

* * *

 ** _Korlus. Imir System._**

"Alright team," Commander Shepard said, looking at the assembled members of her squad. "Our objective today is to retrieve the next member on our dossiers, the krogan warlord turned scientist Okeer, who for some strange reason has gotten himself cornered by a party of mercs on this dump." She waved her hand at the scrapyard of a planet drawing closer in their shuttle.

"Just how does a millennia-old krogan warlord get himself surrounded by a bunch of washed-out mercs anyway?" Jacob wondered aloud.

Miranda took a deep breath. "Our informants claim that Okeer isn't. . well. . completely right in the head," she said hesitantly.

"So he's got a couple of screws loose, eh? As if being a krogan 'scientist' wasn't weird enough." Zaeed snorted and shook his head. "Someone remind me why we're trying to recruit this bloody nutter again?"

"Because our informants also claim that Okeer was the last known person to have made direct contact with the Collectors," Miranda explained. "He might know something important."

"He better had," Garrus added darkly. "I got in touch with a few of our agents in this cluster before we entered orbit. Apparently the place is swarming with Blue Suns; one of the larger factions to have survived the death of their leader a year ago. They're rallying around a human named Jedore." He looked pointedly over at Zaeed, who snorted again.

"Great. As if one bloody nutter wasn't enough," the old man grumbled.

"She going to be trouble?" Shepard asked cautiously.

"Not to someone with your skill, Commander. But the bitch is crazy; as in bonafide, honest-to-goodness trip down the crazy train! We're gonna have to be careful."

"We will," she reassured him.

"The real question here is: what is someone like Okeer doing in a place like this?" Miranda's brow furrowed. "Why did he come here? What does he have to hide?"

"Meh. He's probably creating some abomination of nature in his secret lab or something," Shepard said dismissively. "You know how these mad scientist types are." She blinked and turned to the newest member of their team. "Er. . no offense Mordin."

"None taken," the salarian waved a three-fingered hand in the air. "Have been called a mad scientist often in youth, and not without good reason. In own defense, was simply curious to find out what a hanar-vorcha offspring would look like."

Everyone simply stared at him.

"Merely joking. Not to worry," he shot them a bright smile.

"Riiiiiiight," Shepard said, not feeling reassured in the slightest. "Oh look, we're here!" She waited until everyone had piled out of the shuttle before turning back. "Alright. We'll split into two teams. Miranda, Zaeed: you're with me. Garrus, take Jacob and Mordin with you and cover our flanks."

"Understood."

As the groups hurried off, Jacob turned around to regard the salarian scientist with a slight wariness. "So. . .uh. . . doc. That _was_ a joke, right?" he asked hopefully.

The wide smirk on Mordin's face would haunt the Cerberus Operative till his dying day.

* * *

And so the superb six pushed forward: shooting, warping, incinerating, and blowing up everyone and everything on their way, only pausing briefly to scare a hapless merc into misdirecting his comrades (even the usually tight-lipped Miranda approved of that).

Sadly however, their streak of good fortune did not last for long.

"Bloody hell! Shepard, watch your six!"

Shepard cursed as she dived behind cover. In their haste to get to their target, they'd run smack dab into an extremely large concentration of enemy forces. Now she was being backed into a corner by three Legionnaires, all the while being flanked by one of those pesky Squad Commanders (who were starting to become a real pain by now). Their Disruptor ammo-modded weaponry tore through her shields easily, leaving her extremely vulnerable.

 _Note to self: Invest in more heavy weapons, especially before storming a merc stronghold!_

"Someone get this asshole off of me!" she cried.

The words were barely out of her mouth when a nearby explosive crate shorted and exploded, setting the nearest legionnaire on fire. At the same time an armor piercing round went right through the Blue Suns' commander's head. Shepard seized that opportunity to empty her assault rifle into the other two and turned around. . .

. . . only to gape in surprise as Garrus shimmered into existence ten feet from her.

"Alright Commander?"

She ignored the question, still gaping at the place where he reappeared. "What the hell was that!?"

"Oh that," the way he drawled told Shepard that he was in his 'cocky-bastard' mode. "That was just my new Tactical Cloak program. Do you like it?"

"Tactical Cloak!?"

"Its experimental technology that creates a small photon-distorting field around its target, rendering them mostly invisible for a shot period of time," Miranda explained. "The Cerberus weapons division has been doing its best to replicate it for some time now, but they haven't had much success. Mostly due to funding issues." She fixed the turian with a calculating stare. "It must have cost the Broker a small fortune."

Garrus' only response was to lightly buff his talons against his chest-plate.

"Where can I get one of those?" Shepard asked him.

"Well, the program's expensive as hell, so I doubt you'll get it in the local store, Shepard," he smirked.

"Yeah? Well, just transfer it to my omni-tool then," she growled.

"Doesn't work that way. I. . ah. . _calibrated_ the program to specifically fit turian physiology. I doubt I can re-calibrate it to your measurements."

Now, that wasn't strictly true, since Garrus was pretty sure that there was nothing in this galaxy that _he_ couldn't calibrate. But his desire to one-up the Commander and pay her back for all the time she hogged the good stuff on the SR1 while giving them all the inferior weapons was too damn strong.

"That's not fair," Shepard whined. "You already have a brand new sniper rifle! Why should you get an invisibility cloak?"

"Tactical cloak," Garrus corrected. "And I'm an infiltrator, which means that I need all the protection I can get when I'm using my brand new Incisor sniper rifle." There was the barest hint of smugness in his voice.

"I want it," Shepard said, still staring at the turian like a greedy child staring at someone else's candy.

"Well, I'm already using the program so you can't have it." He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out like he'd seen some human children do.

"Miranda," Shepard rounded on the brunette. "Get me one of those!"

The Cerberus Operative sighed. "Shepard, haven't you been listening? It's ridiculously expensive! This mission has already taken up enough credits as it is. . ."

"But I _want_ one!" she pouted.

Miranda finally had enough of the Commander's childish behavior. "Fine!" she snapped. "If you can find enough credits for us, I'll arrange to get you a Tactical Cloak program!"

"Really?" Shepard's eyes lit up with a strange gleam, causing all four males to back away reflexively.

"Yes, yes," Miranda rambled distractedly. "If you can _find_ the credits, I'll speak to our weapons division and. . ." She blinked in shock when she realized what she'd just said.

"Then what the hell are we waiting for!?" Shepard demanded, a crazed expression on her face. "Let's go!"

"Shepard, wait!"

But it was too late. The team watched in shock as the crazy Commander rushed into the next chamber, the sounds of gunfire and screams echoing immediately.

"Hand over your credits, you bastards!" she screamed.

"Oh my god. . ." a male voice gasped. "This bitch is crazy!"

"Run away!"

"We're all gonna die!"

"Game over, man! Game over!"

Shepard's mad cackle echoed out of the room, followed by sounds of even more gunfire. "All your credits are mine! Mine!"

The four male members of the team turned as one to stare at Miranda. "Miranda," Jacob whispered in horror. "What've you done?"

"I-I didn't mean. . ." she said weakly.

Zaeed simply lit up a cigar and shook his head before moving forward, Mordin following him with a rather interested expression. Garrus sighed and bowed his head, sending out a silent prayer to the Spirits. Miranda Lawson had no idea what she'd just unleashed upon the galaxy.

* * *

With Shepard's new found enthusiasm the team was able to tear through the rest of the opposition easily, and a short while later they were walking into the lab of the not-so-sane Dr Okeer.

"Ah Commander Shepard!" the old krogan spoke without looking up from his console. "I've watched your progress. The batteries on this tank will not wait while you play with these idiotic mercs!"

"So you know who I am?" Shepard asked uneasily.

"Of course! All krogan should know your name!" He turned around to regard them and threw his arms wide. "Such a glorious tale: Saren, the Spectre traitor, threatens the return of the krogan horde by curing the genophage, undoing the gentle genocide of the turians and salarians. But before Saren can deliver his endless troops, in rides Shepard, securing victory through nuclear fire!"

"Oh that? That wasn't me!" She gave a nervous laugh. "That must've been some other Commander Shepard. Right, Garrus?"

"That's right," he nodded. "It definitely wasn't us who set off a nuclear bomb that decimated a thousand krogan and destroyed the only cure to the bane of your species' very existence."

Shepard face-palmed.

"But I approve," Okeer grinned toothily at her. "Saren's pale horde were not true krogan. Numbers alone are nothing. The mistake of an outsider, one that these mercenaries have also made."

"You see, I gave their leader my rejects for her army," he continued. "But she grows impatient. Hmph! Foolish, short-sighted, weak-minded infant! How can she not see the magnitude of what I've been trying to accomplish here?"

"And what exactly _have_ you been trying to accomplish here?" Miranda inquired. "A cure for the genophage?"

"Bah! Cure!? Why would I want to _cure_ the genophage?" he said dismissively. "No, human I wish to accomplish something much greater. The genophage is an enemy of the krogan species, and through my work I wish to inflict the greatest insult that can be bestowed upon an enemy: to be ignored!"

Shepard tuned out the senile old krogan as he began to rant and rave about the genophage and turned to Miranda. "Tell me, did the guys at Cerberus HQ randomly pick the dossiers from a list of the most mentally unstable folks in the galaxy?"

Miranda sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes. Yes, I'm starting to think they did."

"Interesting. Was under the impression that mental instability was a result of joining Shepard's team, rather than a prerequisite," Mordin muttered, scratching his chin. "Have noticed all team members to be possessing some signs of mental health problems." He paused to look at the turian thoughtfully. "Some more than others."

"Gee, thanks," Shepard said sarcastically. "I'm not offended at _all_."

"Glad to hear."

Garrus however, did not hear the exchange. He was too busy trying his hardest not to smile at the sight of the krogan in the tank.

Ever since Rana Thanoptis' not-so-unfortunate demise on Virmire, one of his biggest concerns had been about how much it would go on to impact Grunt's birth. While he couldn't exactly say how much she had contributed to Grunt's creation in the previous timeline, the fact that the young krogan was still here, looking exactly like Garrus remembered him, was proof that it wasn't very significant.

His mind went back to that fateful day on Utukku, when the brave krogan warrior gave his life to help them escape. When the one krogan who had shown Shepard more loyalty and devotion than most of her own kind ever had went down with rest of his team, buying them precious seconds with his own blood. He remembered the night Shepard, not knowing that he was still awake, had silently shed tears; something that hadn't happened even when Wrex and Tali had died.

 _Not this time._ His hands clenched into fists as he made a silent promise to himself. _Not this time. . ._

He was brought out of his reverie as Shepard stepped forward and cleared her throat loudly.

"Hey listen!"

"Blah, blah. . . genophage. . . blah. . .krogan. . ."

"Hey Okeer! We should probably get going. . ."

"Yak, yak, yak. . . legacy. . ."

"Hey! Are you even listening to. . !?"

"Attention!" The shrill voice of the Blue Suns' leader cut through the comms. "I have traced the krogan release. Okeer has betrayed us!"

"I'm calling 'blank slate' on this project! Gas these commandos and start over from Okeer's data. Flush the tanks!"

The ancient krogan shook with barely suppressed rage. "She's _that_ weak-willed?" he growled. "She'll kill my legacy with a damned valve!" He rounded on them. "Shepard! You want my help? Stop her. I will. . stay and do what must be done."

"Alright," Shepard gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "Let's go, people!"

"Y'know, I hate to be that guy, Commander," Zaeed began as the lab doors closed behind them. "But you really think it's a good idea to leave our target in a room full of poison gas?"

"If it shuts him up for a second, then yeah. I do," Shepard replied.

Nobody argued with that.

* * *

The female Blue Suns leader looked up at the sight the six fighters entering the room, weapons drawn. "Well, well. . look who it is. Commander Shepard," Jedore sneered.

"Do I know you?" the Commander raised an eyebrow.

"No, not yet you don't. But by the end of the day the entire galaxy will know me as the woman who killed the great Commander Shepard herself," Jedore announced dramatically. "And finally, after two years, the spirit of Lord Darius will be able to rest in peace!"

"Ummm. . . who?"

"You dare!" Jedore breathed. "You dare pretend to not know of him!? You dare to act as though you do not remember the noble man whose life you ended through your treachery!?" She shook her head theatrically. "How could one such as Lord Darius have fallen to someone like you? The shame, the horror. . ."

Shepard tuned out the rambling and turned towards Garrus. "Who's this Darius supposed to be?"

"You don't remember?" He blinked at her in surprise. "He was a merc leader you killed on Nonuel."

"Garrus, I've killed hundreds of mercs in my lifetime! So humor me a little and refresh my memory."

"Well. . . ."

 _ **Two years ago. Nonuel, Plutus System.**_

" _What's my name?" Shepard bellowed._

" _W-what?"_

" _I said," she viciously slapped the bald man cowering at her feet. "What's my name, bitch?"_

" _S-Sh-Shepard. C-Commander Shepard."_

" _That's right! I'm Commander-fucking-Shepard. **The** Commander-fucking-Shepard!" she spat. "And what's **your** name, maggot!?"_

" _D-D-Darius," the man sobbed. "M-My name is D-Darius."_

" _That's right!" A feral grin spread over face. "Not 'Lord' or any of that pretentious bullshit! Now, I got a question for you," she leaned forward threateningly. "What does Admiral Steven Hackett look like?"_

" _W-What?"_

 _With lightning-speed Shepard drew out her pistol and fired a bullet inches away from his bald head. "What planet are you from!?" she asked._

" _W-What?"_

"' _ **What** ' isn't any planet I've ever heard of. Do they speak English on 'What'?"_

" _W-w-wha. . ?"_

" _English, vorcha-humper!" she screamed. "Do you speak it!?"_

" _Y-yes!"_

" _Then you know what I'm saying!?"_

" _Yes!"_

" _Then describe what Admiral Steven Hackett **looks** like!"_

" _W-what?"_

" _Say 'what' again," she said dangerously, practically shoving her pistol into the merc leader's face. "Say 'what' again! I dare ya! I double-dare ya, vorcha-humper! Say 'what' one more goddamn time!"_

" _Alright, alright! I get it! I get it!" he squealed._

" _Now, **describe** him!"_

" _He's. . . he's tall. . ."_

 _Shepard nodded. "Go on."_

" _He's old. He's. . . got a beard. . ."_

" _Does he look like a bitch?" Shepard demanded._

" _Wh-What?"_

 _She fired another bullet inches away from his head, this one much closer than the last. "Does he look like a bitch!?" she yelled again._

 _At the opposite end of the room, Urdnot Wrex sniffed the air and grinned. "Heh. Little pyjack soiled himself."_

" _God, Wrex! That's disgusting!" Ashley wrinkled her nose._

" _Indeed. Perhaps it would be best if we asked Shepard to show a little restraint," Liara said nervously._

" _It's fine," Garrus said reassuringly. "Look at the bright side: at least we don't have to fight all these guys." He gestured with one taloned hand at the rest of Darius' men, who were watching the spectacle unfold with expressions of mingled shock, horror, disgust and in some cases, borderline hero worship._

" _It **is** rather impressive, though. I didn't think it was possible for humans to climb up balconies so fast," Tali spoke with a distinct note of admiration in her voice._

" _That's because it's actually not possible for humans to do that, Tali. But Shepard tends to stop being human when she gets pissed off," said Kaidan, his face sporting a distinct shade of green. "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick. . ."_

" _Bah! Weak little pyjacks, you humans are! You should all try to be more like Shepard." He drew out a bag of disgusting looking frozen crawfish-like creatures and started munching on them noisily, enjoying the sight of Shepard attempting to fit her armored boot up the merc leader's behind._

" _Shit! I can't. . ." Kaidan turned around and projectile-vomited on one of the nearby mercs, eliciting a loud squeal of disgust._

"Now, I remember," Shepard said, slapping one palm into her fist. "You're the merc Kaidan puked all over back then!"

"Don't remind me!" Jedore shrieked, shuddering violently. "You have no idea how much I suffered! You have no idea how long it took me to get that. . . that degenerate's juices out of my hair. . !"

"Damn. You know, that sounds so wrong when you put it like that," Garrus pointed out unhelpfully.

By this point Jedore had had about enough of these two. "Soldiers!" she screamed. "Activate the mechs! Unleash the krogan! Slaughter them! What the hell do you think you're waiting. . ."

Her jaw dropped as she turned around to find all her men dead, the mechs taken apart and the krogan still locked in their tanks.

"How. . .?"

Zaeed casually lit a cigar. "Ya really didn't think we'd just stand around while ya took a trip down the memory lane, did ya sugar?"

"We took out your entire squad while you were busy reminiscing," Miranda explained. "An advantage of having a crew with such a wide variety of skills."

Slowly, Jedore turned back and saw a grinning red-haired human and a smirking turian pointing their guns right at her head.

"Oh, hell. . ."

As far as last words went, it wasn't so bad.

* * *

 ** _1 day later. Normandy SR2._**

The tank hissed open with a loud noise, its contents spilling out all over the floor. Sputtering and coughing out the vile tasting nutrients from his snout, he took his first deep breath of air. The perfect krogan, the legacy of Okeer staggered to his feet and looked around blearily.

His eyes spotted a red-crested alien standing a few feet away. She had her mouth open and was loudly gargling some gibberish, waving her hand in the air.

The krogan bowed his head and let his instincts take over. With a roar that shook the floor he charged and slammed into the creature, easily hefting her frail form into the far end of the wall.

Then as he continued to hold her in place with one hand, the krogan felt the first of many imprints flood his mind.

He peered closely into the bright green eyes of the alien. "Human. Female," he deduced. "Before you die I need a name."

"Urk. . . my name is. . Commander Shepard," she wheezed. "And I get that you're happy to see me, big guy, but. . ."

"Not yours!" he growled. "Mine. I am trained. I know things, but the tank. . . Okeer couldn't implant a connection. His words are hollow." He rooted around in his most recent memories, the last that he had of his creator. "Warlord, legacy, grunt. . . grunt. 'Grunt' was among the last. It has no meaning. It'll do."

"I am Grunt," he declared with confidence. "If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me."

"Fine," she said, the determined glint in her eyes suddenly making him question the wisdom of his challenge. "Just remember: you asked for it."

And so it was that the young krogan named Grunt learned his first lesson of combat: always keep an eye on your enemy's hands, even when you make eye contact with them.

The female shot her hands forward, fingertips pointing ahead, right into his eyes. With a howl of pain, Grunt reared back clutching at his eyeballs.

At the same time she moved forward, tackling him with one shoulder; a foolish maneuver. Or so he thought anyway, until she hooked one of her long legs behind his short and stubby one and threw him off balance using his own momentum.

Grunt suppressed a wince as he went down on one knee, the weight of his massive bulk nearly snapping his kneecap. Momentarily distracted, he looked up just in time to see the human lift her right fist forward, a brass contraption with rugged edges glinting in the light.

WHAM!

It felt like a small grenade just exploded in his head, stars blinking into his vision as his entire skull seemed to vibrate with the impact. Brass knuckles, his implants told him. Weaponry used by some primitive species who didn't have armor plating like the krogan. Very, very effective; especially when they landed on the soft fleshy part right beside the eyes, where the nerve endings were located.

His second lesson so far: just because your enemy _looks_ like they're unarmed, it doesn't mean that they are.

With a roar of pain he clutched his bleeding head, blinking out the thick blood from his eye as the whole room seemed to swim. But before he had a chance to regain his bearings, the human female clenched her hands together and brought them down on the top of his skull.

Normally, he wouldn't have even felt that blow. But the reinforced metallic knuckles on her hands and the fact that his head was still spinning combined together to have a devastating impact. Grunt howled and clutched at the blood blossoming from his head, feeling as though his brain was jangling in his skull. A few moments later he looked up to see the human standing over him, her face framed in the dull light of the cargo hold. "Had enough?" she asked.

Grunt racked his brain for more of Okeer's implants about humans. Weak. Soft. Fleshy. Fragile. Unworthy. . these were the words that swam to the front of his mind.

Grunt decided then and there: Okeer was an idiot.

The female who stood before him was anything but weak. As Grunt studied her more carefully, he began to notice things which he'd missed in his initial assessment.

The human was of average height and not very well built, but tough. Very tough. Her sturdy frame, the sheer confidence with which she carried herself spoke volumes of her ability. The serious expression in her bright green eyes showed experience, not just of a soldier but of a leader. One who was used to commanding her troops in battle.

She reminded Grunt inexplicably of the great krogan warlords of legend; the powerful warriors who were practically born with ability to command a thousand men. Merely being in her presence seemed to humble him somehow, even if he _was_ the perfect krogan.

Not that he was going to admit that out aloud.

"You cheated," he growled, not hiding the sullenness in his voice.

"I did," Shepard agreed. "More than you know." She jerked her head to the corner of the cargo hold, and Grunt was shocked to see a turian materialize from thin air, rifle pointed neatly at his head.

The realization that he'd been had the whole time filled him with awe. The female could have killed him any time she wanted, but instead she had let him test his strength against hers; beating him and proving her own worth in the true krogan way.

A quote from a book on war and strategy in his implants swam to the front of his mind: he who controls the battlefield has already won without landing a single blow.

Grunt cautiously got to his feet. "Offer one hand but arm the other. Wise Shepard." He looked at her with increased respect. "If I find a clan, if I find what I. . what I _want_ , I will be honored to eventually pit them against you. Until then, I'll fight for you."

It was a mark of her intelligence that she simply didn't take his words at face value."Is it that easy for Okeer's perfect krogan to abandon his mission?"

Grunt snorted in contempt. "Okeer is just a voice in the tank. If his imprints are true, then he created something stronger than him. So he's not worthy of me. And if his hatreds aren't strong enough to compel me, they've failed too." He shrugged. "I feel nothing. I have no connection."

"Then what _are_ you fighting for?" she asked.

"I fight because it's in my blood," he declared. "Because that's what I'm born to do."

Strangely enough, Shepard didn't seem impressed by that. "That's not what I meant," she sighed, discreetly signalling the turian in the corner to lower his weapon. "But for now that'll have to do, I guess."

He blinked at her in confusion, before simply dismissing it as a human thing. "It doesn't matter. All I want are strong enemies. Many of them."

"Oh, there'll be no shortage of enemies. Trust me," she said with a predatory grin before sticking out a fleshy hand. "Welcome to the team, Grunt."

Grunt couldn't help it. He took her hand and grinned back.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

 **AN: The scene with Grunt turned out longer than I thought it would, so I shifted Tevos' scene to the next chapter. The idea of Shepard beating him in a fist fight might seem like stretching it a little, but do recall that he's practically an infant who's just popped out of a tank, while Shepard is a veteran of combat. Not to mention that all the cybernetic augmentation Cerberus gave her has to be useful for something.  
**

 **The scene with Darius (UNC:Negotiation mission, available only if your renegade meter is at least 80%) was something I wanted to include in the last game, but I couldn't quite figure out where to put it in. So I put together a plot where Jedore's actually one of that megalomaniac's retainers (since she's just as crazy and egotistical as him). Let's face it: was there anyone who did not want to slap the shit out that pompous asshole in ME1?**

 **And yeah, I gave Garrus a tactical cloak. Why, you ask? For the glory of calibrations, of course!**

 **Also, now Shepard has a legitimate reason for stealing the crap out of the galaxy. A kleptomaniac Commander is scary; a kleptomaniac Commander with a purpose** **is going to cause all kinds of hell. Will the galaxy survive her purge of all things handy and valuable?**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**

 **Next up: Tevos uncovers more disturbing news in her investigations. Shepard and Co make a trip to the Citadel to meet with Anderson and recruit their latest team member whose kleptomania might just put the Commander to shame.**


	12. Tales From the Citadel - I

_**Asari Embassy. Citadel.**_

"Councilor?"

Tevos looked up from her terminal. "Yes, Naeezya?"

"Matriarch Lidanya is here to see you."

An unusually wide smile bloomed on her face. "Send her in."

Deactivating her terminal, Tevos moved to take a seat on the nearby sofa. Moments later, the doors swished open again.

Tevos took a moment to reflect how much her old friend, Shaekame Lidanya, differed from the typical asari. Tall, well-built, stern and formidable-looking. . . she cut an imposing figure as she walked into the room.

Lidanya was one of the few asari who Tevos genuinely looked up to. At the age of fifty she had enlisted in the military and put herself through their toughest programs, graduating at the top of her class. After spending the next two centuries serving on various starships on the Thessian Republic she was transferred to the prestigious Destiny Ascension. She continued to work her way up the ranks; her hard work, attention-to-detail and sheer determination earning her such acclaim that the then Captain absolutely refused to have her transferred anywhere else. After working on the ship for close to five centuries (longer than any asari alive), she was eventually promoted to position of Captain and Commander-in-chief of the Citadel Defense Fleet.

It was rightly said perhaps, that as far as the galaxy was concerned, Lidanya _was_ the Destiny Ascension. The living personification of asari strength and martial prowess, and a reminder that, for all their reputation of diplomacy, the Asari Republic was not without teeth of its own.

"Councilor," Lidanya greeted her with a sharp salute.

"Matriarch," Tevos returned the formal greeting, slightly amused by her old friend's strict adherence to protocol. "Please take a seat."

"I trust," she continued as the Matriarch made herself comfortable. "That your trip was eventful."

"As eventful as a Victory Cruise could be." There was the barest hint of distaste in her voice.

Tevos suppressed a smile at that. Lidanya had always despised pointless ceremonies; a by-product of her long military career. It was one of those things she greatly appreciated about her.

"What about you? How goes your work?" Lidanya spoke as Naeezya poured them both drinks.

"Very well. Thank you." Tevos waited until her assistant had shut the door before activating her omni-tool's privacy program and waving it across the room.

"Are we secure?" her friend asked.

"We are," she confirmed.

Lidanya relaxed slightly. "Your message said there had been new developments?"

"A lot of them," Tevos replied. "Would you like to hear the good news first or the bad?"

"The former, if you don't mind. I've been told I could use a little optimism every now and then," Lidanya said with a small self-deprecating smile.

"Very well," Tevos smiled. "Good news first: we managed to locate Aethyta."

Lidanya sat up straighter. "Where was she?"

"Right under our noses, as the humans like to say," Tevos shrugged.

The Matriarch's brow furrowed for a moment. "Of course," she said softly. "Ilium."

"Indeed. Nos Astra, to be precise."

"That old hag," Lidanya muttered. "Only she would be cunning enough to hide in a place like that. A place so obvious that no one would even think to look over there."

"Quite," Tevos agreed. "Aethyta has always been much more cunning than most give her credit for." She settled back in her seat. "Apparently she's been working there as a bartender in a local pub."

Lidanya frowned. "That doesn't sound like her. Any reason she was being so overt?"

"Her daughter works in Nos Astra as an Information Broker," Tevos explained.

The matriarch narrowed her eyes. "Her and Benezia's child?" she inquired.

"Yes," Tevos confirmed. "Apparently she's been keeping an eye on her for the Council."

"Really? First they confiscate the child's inheritance, and then they force her father to spy on her. How they disgust me!" Lidanya scoffed. "And speaking of Athame and the Council. . ." She looked at her friend meaningfully.

Tevos sighed. "That's the bad news, I'm afraid. I have uncovered something very. . . unsettling in my investigations."

She got up from her chair and walked across to the window. "In the past year, I have done my best to discreetly find out everything I could about the Temple of Athame, specifically the origin of the. . . antiques we have preserved there."

"I have looked for names, dates, research notes. . . anything that be used to glean more information on the objects enshrined in the Temple, and if they have any connection to these supposed Reapers. I searched in the libraries of Thessia's best universities, the most reputed research teams, STG intelligence, the Citadel Archives and even black-market sources."

"What did you find?" Lidanya inquired.

Tevos turned to look her straight in the eye. "Nothing."

"I found nothing. Not a single scrap of information, not the barest clue. . there is absolutely no new information available on the Temple of Athame beyond which I already knew!"

The implications of that were not lost on her friend. "Seems like someone went to a lot of effort to erase all possible data leaks on the Temple," Lidanya mused. "I wonder what they're so desperate to hide."

"So do I," she said softly. "Sadly, most of my efforts have been for naught. And I'm afraid things are about to get much worse."

"What do you mean?" Lidanya asked sharply.

"Do you remember the team that was hired to do some re-modelling on the Temple about two years ago?"

"I do. What of it?"

"It struck me a bit suspicious back then. Back when the Council insisted on re-designing the upper floors of the Temple without giving a proper reason."

Lidanya nodded. "I remember. They rushed that decision back then, and you were very firmly against it because you felt that it was not wise to let a team with unknown credentials get so close to what is essentially the greatest secret of the asari."

"I still do," Tevos said. "It was a needless security risk. But the rebuilding of the Citadel took up most of my attention, so I did not pursue it further."

"For some reason I found myself thinking back to that incident. It seemed so insignificant back then. But now. . now my instincts told me to look deeper, and I did."

Lidanya nodded approvingly. "Our instincts rarely lead us astray, especially in matters like this. What did you find, Councilor?"

Tevos drew her arms around herself. "The group that was hired to do the re-modelling work. . . their IDs did not hold up to deeper scrutiny. The company itself is merely a Shell company based in Noveria; and guess who owns it?"

"Who?"

"Saehal Linron. Grand-son of Dalatrass Linron of the Salarian Union."

"Goddess," Lidanya whispered, closing her eyes momentarily. "Councilor, you know what that means, don't you?"

Tevos nodded. "The STG is compromised," she said gravely. "They succeeded in infiltrating the Asari Republic's biggest stronghold years ago, and Athame alone knows what they've found!"

"You do realize," Lidanya said slowly. "That they've likely caught on to your investigations as well."

"I do," Tevos sighed heavily. "I've already made arrangements to close off most of my STG channels. As of now I am operating solely through Tela Vasir. There is no one else I can trust."

"Yes, that is the best strategy for now," Lidanya said thoughtfully. "The smaller our circle stays, the better."

She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "This whole matter seems to be growing more complicated by the second. Even with everything we've done so far, it feels like we've barely scratched the surface."

"Tell me, Councilor," she said after a few minutes. "When was the last time you met with the Council?"

"I haven't been to Thessia since the argument over Benezia's estate," Tevos answered honestly. "Why?"

"Something strange has been going on since the past year. The Matriarchs have been unusually active; some of them more than others."

"Such as?" Tevos queried.

"Trellani, for one." She fixed the other asari with a penetrating stare. "Do you know how much her own finances have grown since the Council confiscated Benezia's estate two years ago? How many more acolytes she has acquired? Oh yes, Matriarch Trellani V'laran has been steadily gaining power for quite a while now."

"I didn't know," Tevos admitted, feeling strangely disturbed by this new development.

"This Victory Cruise I just completed was her idea," Lidanya said quietly. "I didn't think much of it back then, but when you consider everything that's been happening so far. . ."

"You think Trellani is trying to isolate us both on purpose?"

"I don't know," she said. "But I confess: I don't like this picture we're seeing right now."

"You don't like Trellani much, do you?" Tevos observed.

Lidanya shrugged. "I don't, and I've never made much of a secret of it. Trellani is the personification of everything I despise about our culture. She's stuck-up, snobbish, narrow-minded and so utterly convinced of the asari's superiority that she can't see any value in any other species except for diversifying our genetic pool! People like her are the reason the rest of the galaxy doesn't take us seriously anymore."

"I agree. Her radical stance on our political values is. . vexing, to say the least," Tevos sighed. "If someone like her is gaining more influence in the Council. . ."

"Then the situation is far worse than we thought," Lidanya finished grimly.

There was silence for a few minutes before she spoke. "What's our next move, Councilor?"

"I don't know," Tevos replied. "I suppose the best thing to do would be to wait for Aethyta to join us. Once she's here, we can think of something. Maybe we can even get Shepard to lend us a hand."

"Shepard? _The_ Commander Shepard? She's alive!?"

"Goddess, I completely forgot!" Tevos exclaimed. "I should have mentioned this earlier. Yes, I have confirmed that Commander Shepard is indeed alive!"

"I thought news of her return was merely a rumor, or an elaborate hoax," Lidanya said slowly. "Are we certain it really _is_ her?"

"As certain as we could be without meeting her in person," Tevos said. "The fact that she's working with Cerberus is a matter of some concern, but I'm hoping to have that resolved once she arrives at the Citadel."

"How did you find out about this? Through Vasir?"

Tevos hesitated. "No. No, it was . . Aria who sent me the news. She claimed that Shepard had visited Omega for a brief while."

Lidanya wisely decided not to press further. "So Commander Shepard is back from the dead," she murmured. "That's good. We can definitely use her help in this matter. Not to mention I have always wanted to make her acquaintance."

"I'm not sure if that would be a good idea," Tevos said cautiously.

"Why not? She saved my ship and my entire crew, Councilor! Sacrificing her _own_ people in the process! The least I could do is thank her in. . .ah." Her eyes lit up with understanding. "You're worried I'll attract attention."

"Precisely," Tevos nodded. "We know that the Council and the Salarian Union is keeping tabs on me. They might start doing the same to you if you got too close to Shepard, especially now."

"You certainly have a point there," Lidanya said slowly. "Very well. I shall stay away from Shepard for now. But what about you? Do you have something planned for her?"

"I do, though I am not sure how far I will be able to go," Tevos admitted. "We are severely lacking in resources as it is."

Lidanya licked her lips. "What about Aria?"

"What about her?" Tevos asked, a touch of frostiness in her voice.

"You could ask for her help," the Matriarch suggested.

"No," she said quickly. "Absolutely not! I. . ."

"Councilor," Lidanya interrupted her. "Lismenea. . . please. Allow me to use our years of friendship to commit this one act of insubordination." She reached across and gripped the other woman's shoulder firmly. "I know what the both of you have gone through. I know how hard it was for the two of you to make the choices you did. But there are larger issues at stake here, issues far more important than any of us. If this business with the Reapers is as real as we think it is, then we will need every last advantage at our side."

"The two of us are walking a very thin line right now," she continued. "It won't be long until the other Matriarchs realize what we're really up to, and then there's no telling how they might. When things start getting more serious, we will need all the help we can get; and whatever else Aria may be, her influence within the Terminus systems is absolute. We'll _need_ that strength before all this is over." She fixed Tevos with a beseeching look. "Just promise me that you'll at least consider it."

Tevos took a deep breath. "I will. You're right, Shaekame. We need to keep our options open."

In response, Lidanya gave the barest hint of a smile before getting back to business. "For now, let us avoid making any decisions until Aethyta joins us; her unusual perspective is exactly what we need right now. In the meantime, do what you will to support Commander Shepard, especially if her current business involves the Reapers. Also, as a matter of precaution I shall have two of my most effective and trusted commandos transferred to your security detail."

"There's no need. . ."

"I insist, Councilor," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "We are in much too precarious a position to risk having something happen to you now. If nothing else, it will help me sleep peacefully at night knowing you are well protected."

"Very well," Tevos relented. "If that is what you suggest."

"Thank you. Now if that's all, I shall be returning to the ship. There are some matters to take care of."

"Of course," Tevos smiled. "We shall meet again, Lidanya."

As the Captain of the Destiny Ascension walked to the door, she paused and turned around. "One last thing, Councilor. You said that none of the information channels you investigated yielded anything, correct?"

"Yes."

"Which begs the question: how did the Broker know so much about the Temple?"

Tevos blinked in surprise. "Goddess, you're right! If _I_ couldn't find any new information on the Temple, then how did the Broker!?" Her brow furrowed. "Do you think he's manipulating us?"

"Perhaps he is, but to what end we don't know. Or perhaps he has a source of information that we don't. Either way, it's something to keep in mind." Lidanya shrugged. "But that's neither here nor there. For now, let us focus on one enemy at a time."

"Agreed."

"Stay safe, Councilor," Lidanya saluted before departing.

"You as well, old friend," Tevos murmured softly. "You as well."

* * *

It was with a great deal of nervousness that Laenaria Palirius entered room number 43. In all the years spent working as a nurse in the prestigious Huerta Memorial hospital, she had seen more than her fair share of disturbing things. But this particular room was in a league of its own.

Strange, inexplicable things happened in this room almost on a weekly basis. Objects moved by themselves, fresh flowers appeared out of nowhere, small gifts and get-well soon cards written in obscure earth languages were left on the table beside the patient.

Then there was the patient himself, a mysterious human male who'd been checked in about a year ago with extremely serious injuries. Laenaria was not a particularly religious turian, but even she had to admit that the very fact the human male had survived so long was nothing less than a blessing of the Spirits themselves.

His brain had been severely damaged by electric current, so much so that he had to kept comatose while the doctors worked to repair what they could. A process that was more complex than it sounded, given that modern medicine was still not advanced enough to regenerate neurons fast enough. What made the whole thing much more horrific was the fact that the doctors believed that the human's injuries were not accidental. Far from it, in fact.

So they continued to work, and each month the money came in dutifully from an unknown source for the young man's treatment; never once delayed even by a single day. This combined with the presents left behind for the patient was proof that someone out there was watching over him, though how they managed to get past all the security cameras was anyone's guess.

A slight rustle caused Laenaria to turn around, only to spot a new card in the pile on the patient's drawer. Slowly she reached out with a three-fingered hand and opened it, her talon gently caressing the beautifully written script on the thick paper.

It was sheer morbid curiosity that had led her to learn this strange human language called Japanese; well, that and the captivating beauty of the archaic script. While by no means an expert, she had learned enough to deduce this latest message.

 _"I'll be back soon. Please be well, Keiji."_

Her mandibles flaring in a sad smile, Laenaria looked at the frail man lying on the bed. "Get well soon, Mr Okuda," she whispered. "There's someone out there who loves you very much."

* * *

 ** _2 days later. Citadel._**

The young krogan blinked slowly as he regarded the group of bright pink creatures with open curiosity. "Shepard. Are those Hanar?"

"Why, yes Grunt. They are."

"Hmmm. They look squishy," he mumbled thoughtfully. "Can I eat them?"

"Good question, Grunt," the Commander nodded. " _Could_ you eat them? Well, you're a krogan so I'm pretty sure there's no-one in the galaxy you can't eat. _Should_ you eat them? That's a different conundrum altogether."

"So to the question of 'should' I'll say," she glanced around furtively, "not while there are witnesses around."

Standing beside her, Miranda Lawson heaved a deep sigh. "Shepard, please stop being such a bad influence on the impressionable young krogan."

"Yeah? And where exactly do you get off telling me how to raise my kid, Lawson?" Shepard sneered.

" _Your_ kid?" the brunette repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I did pop him out of his tank, didn't I?" she said smugly.

"Right. Of course. How could I have forgotten?" Miranda rolled her eyes.

"So, what're you doing here, anyway?" Shepard asked. "Shouldn't you be in your office writing love letters to Timmy?"

"First off, they're mission reports. And what did you just call the Illusive Man?" Miranda said dangerously.

"Timmy. That's my. . well. . _our_ nickname for your boss. The Illusive Man is too much of a mouthful, so we're going with TIM. Garrus came up with it."

Miranda shot an icy glare at the turian, who flinched slightly. But a moment later she relaxed, and instead of rebuking him she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Why am I not surprised?" she muttered.

Garrus let out a small sigh of relief. Ever since their last private conversation, Miranda's attitude towards him (and Shepard in particular) had been greatly muted. While she still did throw him an occasional dirty look or two, the usual hostility in her gaze had long since disappeared and replaced by, dare he say it, a small amount of regret and shame; proof that his sharp words had had some effect on the stubborn Cerberus Operative. It was something he was really grateful to the Spirits for.

"Anyways," Miranda cleared her throat. "As I was saying, I _should_ be getting back to my reports. But I believe it would be more beneficial for me to be here while we recruit our newest member."

"Let me guess," Shepard said mock-thoughtfully. "This one's got a screw loose as well?"

"I would prefer to use the word 'eccentric', but you get the idea," Miranda sighed. "Personally, I think the both of you will get along splendidly."

Shepard snorted. "Please. What could I possibly have in common with a thief?"

Miranda stared at her as though she were insane. "You're joking, right? Never mind." She waved her hand towards an advertising terminal. "We're already here."

"So where is this Kasumi Goto?" Shepard looked around.

As if on cue, the ad terminal changed to show the image of a hooded woman. "Commander Shepard," a cheerful voice said. "Just enter your password for a fabulous prize package worth millions of credits!"

Shepard turned towards Miranda and arched an eyebrow. The message was clear: _Is she for real?_

Miranda merely shrugged in response.

"Got problems with collectors? Try Kasumi's credit services!"

The Commander sighed. "Enough with the games, Goto. I got other places to be, so just hurry up and come out already!"

"Please tell me your password, Commander Shepard," the terminal repeated.

"Fine," Shepard snapped. "Silence is golden!"

The VI seemed to flicker slightly. "Good to finally meet you, Commander Shepard. Kasumi Goto. I'm a fan."

"Yeah? Well, I prefer to meet my fans in person. So how about we skip the cloak and dagger stuff, and get down to business?"

"If that's what you want," the voice replied, except that this time it came from right behind Shepard. Her hand had already begun to move towards her pistol before a figure materialized from thin air.

"Hi."

"Gaaaah!" Shepard yelled, jumping behind Grunt reflexively. "What the fuck!?"

"I'm Kasumi," the girl chirped, seemingly unperturbed by the Commander's extreme reaction, or the fact that Zaeed, Mordin and Jacob had their weapons drawn (Miranda and Garrus hadn't even flinched). "Nice to meet you."

The massive krogan stepped forward and sniffed at her curiously. "Another human female. Squishy and small, too. Hey Shepard, can I eat her?"

"Not yet, Grunt," the Commander said, glaring at the nervous-looking thief. "First I'd like to know how the hell did you. . .Wait. You have an invisibility cloak!"

"Tactical Cloak," Kasumi corrected. "Pretty useful in my line of business."

"I don't doubt that," Shepard muttered, finally stepping forward again. "So, Cerberus explained the whole mission to you?"

"Yes, I have most of the details, but I'm guessing you have more." Kasumi smiled. "Must say, it's a real honor to be working with you."

"Oh stop that already. You're embarrassing me!" Shepard blushed. "I mean, I get that I'm a hero and everything. . ."

"You _are_ a hero, but that's not why I look up to you," Kasumi interjected. "I'm just happy to meet a woman after my own heart."

"What're you on about?" she frowned.

"I've heard the stories," the thief said in a hushed whisper. "Tales of your legendary looting spree across the galaxy. They say that two years ago you looted the hell out of every single merc base in the Terminus systems!"

"What? No, I didn't. . !"

"I was really impressed by that, y'know," she continued as though the Commander hadn't even spoken. "I was there at one of the merc bases you guys had hit during your journey, or what was left of it anyway." Her eyes lit up with a dreamy look. "I've never seen a more thorough robbery in my life. Heck, you guys didn't even leave the furniture behind!"

"That wasn't us," Shepard insisted.

Garrus coughed lightly behind her. "Actually, it was. Remember that time you desperately wanted credits for the Colossus armor? And you absolutely refused to wait for another week until we could make another trip to the Citadel?"

"Erm. . yeah. I guess it was," Shepard conceded. "But that was a long time ago. I've gotten better!"

"No, she hasn't," Miranda disagreed. "The fact that our cargo bay is full to bursting with excessive inventory is proof of that."

"Gee! I wonder how that happened."

Miranda took a threatening step forward. "You think this is funny, Commander?" She waved an OSD in front of the redhead's face. "Two hundred thousand units of minerals," she hissed. "Two hundred thousand! Pray tell, just what am I supposed to do with such a large quantity of unrefined minerals?"

Shepard opened her mouth and paused for a few seconds, before shutting it with a snap. "Yeah, I got nothing. Sorry." She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

"Of course you don't," Miranda muttered crossly.

"I might," Jacob offered.

"Really?" Miranda turned to him and crossed her arms. "Do tell."

He ignored her tone, turning to the Commander instead. "Back during my Corsair days, we often had a shortage of cash, so we had to improvise to meet our expenses. Eventually we were approached by a few mining companies who didn't exactly have permission to operate in the areas we frequented. So we struck a deal."

"Credits for minerals?" Shepard guessed.

Jacob shook his head. "Not exactly, Commander. See, these companies don't hand out credits because then they'd have to fudge their records to keep these things from their investors. Remember, this was pretty illegal stuff we were all doing. Real hush-hush."

"So how did you guys get compensated?" Garrus asked.

"Upgrades," he said simply. "We needed upgrades for our ship and our weapons, so those guys simply gave us the upgrades in return for the minerals. Mostly black market and backdoor channel shit, but they were the real deal."

"That's. . that's actually an excellent idea." Miranda actually sounded impressed. "Really brilliant of you, Jacob!"

"What can I say, I have my moments," he grinned before turning serious again. "The only problem here is that these guys operate in out of the way places, like the Traverse. I dunno if any of them are on the Citadel. . ."

"Oh, but there are," Kasumi interjected brightly. "I know a few places here that deal with stuff like that. I could show you guys!"

"We'd appreciate that, Ms Goto," Miranda said before turning back to the rest. "Jacob and I will deal with this while you smooth things over with the Council, Commander."

"Good plan," Shepard nodded. "Any particular upgrades we're looking for?"

Garrus was about to mention the Thanix cannon at this point, but Jacob beat him to it. "I've been looking up a few contacts on armor upgrades for the ship. Think we have enough to get the best heavy armor we need."

"And I've got a few contacts that could help us get some mineral scanner upgrades," Miranda added. "That'll be beneficial to us in the long run."

"I could get some weapon upgrades for the team pretty cheap if you need em," Kasumi offered.

"Sounds great," Shepard agreed. "I'll leave it to you three then. Get whatever you think we can use."

"Understood. We'll meet you back at the ship. Good luck with the Council, Shepard." With that the two Cerberus Operatives walked off, their newest member leading the way.

"Right then," Shepard said, turning back to the others. "We should get going . .wait. . . where's Grunt?"

"Over there." Garrus pointed to a nearby store, where the young krogan was staring at a few action figures on display.

"Huh. Well, he is a kid, I s'pose." She turned to Zaeed. "Keep an eye on him for me?"

"Not sure if baby-sitting krogan is part of my job description, Commander," the old merc grinned.

"Yeah? How about I throw in a crate of whiskey for you?" Shepard asked with a smile.

"Make it scotch, and you got yourself a deal."

"Got it," Shepard laughed. "Hey Garrus, pick up some scotch on the way back, will you?"

He blinked in surprise. "I thought we were going to meet the Council."

" _I_ am going to meet the Council," Shepard corrected him. " _You_ are going shopping."

"Why's that?" he demanded.

"Cause I've got to convince a bunch of politicians that there's a good reason behind me coming back from the dead to work for a bunch of terrorists," she explained. "I need to make a good impression. So I'm taking only the most reputable members of our team with me. In this case, it's Mordin."

"You're saying Mordin is more reputable than me?" He waved his talon at a corner, where the salarian was busy babbling at a nervous-looking elcor at top speed.

"Garrus, you're a renegade cop who's been off the radar for two years. Your present employer is the most dangerous information broker in the galaxy, and you're currently acting as his representative aboard a ship owned by a pro-human terrorist organization. Bringing you before the Council is practically _asking_ for trouble." She glanced over at where Mordin was loudly attempting to diagnose the elcor with some kind of strange sounding disease, attracting several uneasy glances from passers-by. "Mordin might be insane, but he's still former STG. Having him at my side will, hopefully, make my testimony about the Reapers seem more reliable, especially if the Council really is going out of their way to deny the threat like TIM says they are."

"Fine. You've made your point," Garrus conceded. "Just be careful. And try not to, you know, kill the turian councilor. "

Shepard grinned. "Yeah. I'll do my best but. . . oh hell. Mordin, no!" She was distracted as a large commotion broke out thanks to Mordin advancing on the elcor with his omni-tool, who shrieked and started crashing into nearby bystanders in panic. Shepard quickly pressed an OSD into his hands and raced away. "Make sure to get those food supplies for Gardner," she called over her shoulder. "Unless you want to keep eating MREs for the rest of the mission!"

Garrus watched her leave and glanced over the OSD, clicking his mandibles thoughtfully. Shopping for groceries wasn't really his specialty, but he supposed that nothing he'd pick up could possibly make Gardner's cooking any worse than it already was.

And while he was at it, maybe he could check in on some old 'friends' as well.

* * *

 **AN: So yeah, as you've seen there's a lot of complicated stuff going on behind the scene. Let's just say the Reapers' plan is going to much more complex than what we've seen in the games. I mean really, you'd think that a billion-year-old AI would have much better tactics of dealing with the cycles instead of the whole "Let's drop off our artifacts in random locations and hope the organics get indoctrinated" schtick.  
**

 **This chapter introduces Lidanya, who's going to be an important recurring character in the story, and also mentions the various factions who're going to cause trouble for our heroes in the future. A whole lot of trouble.  
**

 **Next up: A look at Kasumi's past and her motivations for joining Shepard's mission. Also, our fearless Commander attempts to convince the Citadel Council of the impending Reaper threat. Will she succeed or is she doomed to failure?**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	13. Thieves and Politicians

**_Lower Wards. Citadel._**

"So. . ." Jacob cleared his throat slightly. "Er. . . Ms Goto?"

"Kasumi's fine," the thief replied cheerfully.

"Right," he nodded. "Call me 'Jacob', then. I gotta ask, what made you want to join our mission?"

"You mean apart from all the credits your boss is throwing my way?"

"People don't exactly join suicide missions for the credits," Jacob pointed out. "Not much point of having them if you're not around to spend them, is it?"

"Suicide Mission!?" Kasumi exclaimed. "My, my. . . aren't you a bundle of optimism?"

"He's just being realistic," Miranda spoke up from behind her. "The odds of returning from this mission are very, very low. The entire relay is unmapped and no ship or person that ever attempted it has ever been seen again." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Personally, I find it a bit curious myself that someone of your. . . profession would be interested in a mission like this one. Just why _are_ you here?"

For some reason, this question caused Kasumi's mind to go back to the man lying comatose in Huerta Memorial hospital. The man who had, despite her best efforts, come to mean so much to her.

"I. . ."

* * *

 ** _1 year ago._**

The man grunted in pain as he was slammed against the wall, and slid down painfully to the ground. "For the last time, Goto," he groaned. "I don't where he is!"

"Liar!" Kasumi shrieked, jumping onto his back. "You were the one who set us up! Now _tell_ me where he is!"

"I don't. . .aaargh!" He screamed as his right shoulder was viciously dislocated. "You crazy bitch! I'm telling you, I DON'T KNOW!"

"One last time: where is Keiji!?" Kasumi said dangerously, her arm around his other shoulder.

Her captive merely scoffed. "You think you scare me, you little bint!? What you're doing is _nothing_ compared to what Donovan Hock'll do to me if he finds out I betrayed him! You don't even have half his imagination!"

"Oh, I disagree. She's got plenty of imagination."

Kasumi nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the heavily-disguised voice from the corner. Whipping out her pistol, she spun on her heel to point it at the intruder. . .

. . . only to see no less a dozen laser sights dancing on her.

"I wouldn't be too hasty, Ms Goto," the stranger in the shadows warned.

She cursed vilely under her breath. Sloppy, idiotic. . . she must be completely off her game if she could allow so many enemies to get the jump on her so easily.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she snapped.

The figure in the shadows stepped forward, revealing a fully armored turian. "Believe it or not, I'm a friend," he spoke in a heavily-synthesized voice. "And what I want right now is to help you."

"I don't have time for. . . ."

"Bekenstein."

She blinked. "What?"

"Your partner Keiji Okuda is at Donovon Hock's private residence on Bekenstein," the turian said smoothly. "If you come with us, we can help you recover him."

Kasumi looked at him as though he were insane. "Just how stupid do you think I am?" she demanded. "You think I'll simply go off with the first stranger who comes along and gives me a random location!?"

Now, that wasn't strictly true since she did vaguely remember Keiji mention Bekenstein once in relation to Hock, so there was a good chance the turian was telling the truth. But considering that she'd just been betrayed by an old acquaintance a scant few hours ago, Kasumi wasn't in a hurry to go around putting her faith in people she'd just met.

"I think that you value Mr Okuda's life more than your own, and I think you'll have a better chance of saving both if you'll let us help you," the turian answered. "Believe me when I say I'm not in the business of giving out wrong information."

It was then that Kasumi noticed the symbol on his armor. "Since when does the Shadow Broker hand out information for free?" she asked suspiciously.

A gruff laugh sounded from the side. "Yeah, I said the same thing."

Kasumi recognized the scarred mercenary immediately. She'd be a fool not to. "Zaeed Massani," she whispered.

"Guilty as charged," he grunted. "And you might wanna make your decision quickly, sugar. I know that son-of-a-bitch Hock, and he ain't exactly the patient type."

Kasumi bit her lip nervously. While it was true that she didn't trust the turian as far as she could throw him, the fact that he had Zaeed-goddamn-Massani vouching for him was a point in her book. The old man was a legendary mercenary, famous for being one of the few people out there with a sense of honor. Stabbing someone in the back simply wasn't in his nature.

But could she honestly take the risk of exposing herself so brazenly?

 _Get a grip, Kasumi! Now's not the time to be a chicken. Keiji needs you. . ._

"What about him?" she gestured at the rat lying at her feet.

The turian simply pointed his omni-tool at the prone man, causing an overload to electrocute the traitor into unconsciousness. "I've put out the word. C-Sec will pick him up after we leave; assuming you're willing to accept our help, that is."

"You'll really help me get Keiji out of there?" she asked.

The turian bowed his head. "You have my word."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Then lead the way."

* * *

The journey to Bekenstein was faster than Kasumi had anticipated, and between her, the turian known as Archangel, his men and Massani they made short work of the security around Donovan Hock's estate.

Unfortunately, they were still too late.

"You bastard!" Kasumi howled, physically tackling Hock onto the floor. "You killed him!"

"Goto. . ."

"You killed Keiji!" she screamed hysterically, punching the prone man in the face over and over again. She could feel the bones in her hand jangling with each blow, but she was too far gone to care. "You killed him!"

She jumped back and drew her pistol, pointing it shakily at his head. "I'll kill you!" she snarled. "I swear I'm going to kill you!"

Hock grinned at her through his ruined face. "Do it," he challenged her. "Do it Goto. . . if you have to guts, that is."

Kasumi ground the pistol into his temple, her hand shaking even harder. "Don't. . . don't you dare. . ." she said quietly.

Hock gave a harsh chuckle. "You can't," he grinned, spitting out a few teeth. "You've never actually murdered someone , have you?"

"Your guards would beg to differ," she spat angrily.

"Bah! I'm not talking about killing in combat, you silly girl! I'm talking about _murder._ " He gave her a contemptuous grin. "I'm talking about holding down a defenseless man and shooting him in the head, while you look straight into the whites of his eyes. Never done that, have you?"

"Shut up!" she snarled, kicking him viciously in the ribs. "Just shut up!"

Hock laughed again. "You dumb broad!" he wheezed. "You're an idiot, just like your boyfriend. If he'd only given me what I wanted, I would've made his death painless."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT KEIJI LIKE THAT!"

"Then again," Hock pressed on. "If he really had any sense, he wouldn't have. . ."

He never got to finish that sentence as a pistol round went right through his head, causing his brains to be splattered all over the place.

Kasumi jumped backward in shock. It took her a second to process the fact that she hadn't pulled the trigger before she spun around. "Massani!" she yelled at the old merc standing behind her with a smoking pistol. "What the hell was that!?"

"Two things," he grunted. "First: I don't like these smug critters mouthing off so much. Makes me feel like I'm in a fucking comic book."

"That's not the point. . ."

"Secondly," he spoke over her. "Your boyfriend is still alive."

Kasumi blinked dumbly. "What?"

"You heard me, kiddo: your man's still alive."

"But. . . but I saw Hock shooting him. . ."

"You saw Hock pulling a gun on him," Massani corrected her. "The shot you heard was the big man knocking the pistol out of his hand. Yeah," he said at her disbelieving expression, "he's that good."

Kasumi felt her heart soar. "Where is he!? Where's. . .?"

Massani simply pointed at where Archangel was conversing with one of his underlings.

Kasumi ran towards them, and as she got nearer she could make out the asari's voice. ". . . severe damage. We've put him on life-support for now, but he needs a hospital. . ."

"Keiji," she interrupted them breathlessly. "How. . . how is he?"

The asari hesitated, glancing over at Archangel, who simply nodded. "She needs to hear it, Melenis."

Melenis took a deep breath. "It appears that Mr Hock went a bit. . . overboard with his questioning. He somehow got it into his head that he could bypass Mr Okuda's greybox protocols through brute force, and to that end he used this contraption," she waved her hand at the blood-covered chair they'd found Keiji strapped to, "to attack his brain."

Kasumi covered her mouth in horror. "You mean. . .?"

The asari nodded sadly. "They passed a rather large amount of current through Mr Okuda's cerebral cortex. Preliminary scans show that the damage is. . . extensive. Several of his neurons have been completely fried. We had to induce a coma just to stabilize him."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Will he. . .?" she choked, unable to say the words.

"He'll survive, though it's much too early to say how much he'll be able to recover." Melenis reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't give up hope yet, Ms Goto."

Kasumi could only nod shakily.

"I've made arrangements for a special ward in Huerta Memorial's ICU," Archangel said suddenly. "We should leave immediately."

"Huerta Memorial?" Kasumi was surprised. "On the Citadel?"

"That's right," he said, walking back to the ship. "You can thank me later. Now let's go!"

"Wait a minute," Kasumi cried, running after him. "Why. . . why are you doing this?"

He paused mid-stride, turning around slightly. "Because I know what you're going through better than anyone else," he answered quietly.

* * *

It was a whole month later that Kasumi found herself standing cloaked on the landing above Huerta Memorial's second floor, right above Keiji's room.

"You know," she spoke suddenly. "You're pretty light footed for an old geezer."

Zaeed Massani gave a gruff chuckle as he sauntered into view. "Good instincts."

"I could say the same about you, old timer." She shimmered back into view. "How'd you find me, anyway?"

"You don't live as long as I have without learning a few tricks, sugar," Zaeed grinned.

"Uh-huh," she gave him a small smile. "Still, I gotta say Gramps, I'm flattered by the attention and everything. But I'm not into older men."

"Don't worry your butt off, hun," he grinned. "I don't do kids, either. I like my women like my wine."

"More than a century old?" Kasumi guessed.

"I was gonna say classy, but you ruined it." He casually lit a cigar. "So, how's he doing?"

The smile slipped off of Kasumi's face. "He's still in a coma," she said softly. "I overheard the doctors saying they're going to repair all the damage to his brain before waking him up, but that could take years." She hurriedly blinked away the tears from her eyes.

If Zaeed noticed the heaviness in her voice, he didn't react. "What're you gonna do?"

"Don't know," she answered honestly. "I've been working with a partner for so long I've almost forgotten how to pull a heist alone." She sighed. "Right now, the only thing I want is to see Keiji back on his feet. Mind you, your boss is being pretty helpful with that."

"He ain't my boss," Zaeed muttered. "But I hear ya. He's a bit weird, that one."

"Tell me about it. You know he's made arrangements to have Keiji in that room for the next couple of years. A private ward in Huerta hardly comes cheap." Kasumi shook her head. "And he hasn't even asked for anything in return yet!"

Zaeed shrugged. "What can I say? Goddamn turian's as nutty as they come."

"I figured," Kasumi grinned. They were silent for a few minutes before she spoke again. "Hey, Massani?"

"Yeah?"

"By the way, I have to ask: why didn't you let me kill Hock back then?"

Zaeed blew out a cloud of smoke. "Dunno what you're talking about."

"Oh, cut the crap, old man," she sighed. "I saw what you did back there. You killed Hock before I could, and I've heard enough about you to know that it's not your style. So why'd you do it?"

"Cause the bastard was right," Zaeed answered without hesitation. "You've never murdered someone in your life, have ya?"

"So you think I couldn't do it?" Kasumi challenged him. "You think I couldn't have killed him?"

Zaeed simply stared at her for a few moments, puffing his cigar in silence. The he spoke. "You know how I got this scar?"

"You tried to hit on a krogan?" Kasumi mock-guessed.

"Cheeky brat," he snorted. "No, it was nothing so nice. You see, twenty years ago my old. . . friend," he spat the word as though it were venom, "Vido Santiago and I founded a merc group. _You_ know it as the Blue Suns."

"Whoa. . back up there a sec! You _founded_ the Blue Suns!?" Kasumi asked in surprise. "How come nobody's ever mentioned that?"

"Because it's not common knowledge. Vido wiped me out of the records," Zaeed spat. "He ran the books, I led the men. Worked real well for a while. Then Vido decided to start hiring batarians. 'Cheaper labour', he said. 'Goddamn terrorists', I said."

He took another deep puff of his cigar. "Eventually Vido got tired of dodging around and turned my men against me. He paid six of them to restrain me while he put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger."

"Wow. You survived a gunshot to the head!?"

Zaeed simply shrugged. "A stubborn enough person can survive just about anything. Rage is a hell of an anaesthetic."

"So yeah, I survived and I spent twenty years chasing down the backstabbing son-of-a-bitch. Managed to finally corner him a couple months ago in an oil refinery on Zorya, thanks to our mutual friend."

He sighed softly. "I shot him in both kneecaps and slapped him around like a bitch. Then when I was done paying back the bastard with my fists, I doused him with jet fuel and set him on fire. Alive."

Kasumi clamped a hand over her mouth. "Gross," she mumbled.

"Yeah, it wasn't a pretty sight," Zaeed agreed. "He screamed like a vorcha for fifteen minutes before his face melted off."

"Anyway, after that I went off and started celebrating. I mean, I was happy you know; I finally got the revenge I'd been looking for twenty years. Felt like a huge weight off my chest."

"A week later, Archangel's cronies found me drunk as a skunk in a filth-ridden hovel down the street."

His eyes were unfocused now. "It was supposed to be satisfying, supposed to be the best feeling in the world. For twenty years, I saw that bastard every time I closed my eyes. Every time I sighted down on a target. Every time I heard a gunshot. . ."

"But it didn't feel any different. Not to me."

Zaeed took another deep puff of his cigar. "You see, I forgot something important. For twenty years I'd been so fixated on Vido that, now that he was dead, I had nothing left anymore. No aim, no reason. . . just didn't have anything meaningful, y'know? Figured I should just buy a ship full of explosives and commit suicide by Omega. Easiest retirement plan I could come up with back then."

He blew out a cloud of smoke. "That's what revenge does to you: makes you cross a line you thought you never would. Makes it feel easy. Then when the deed is done, you're left all alone to figure out what's next. Mind you, an old man like me could live with that. But you," he fixed the young thief with a stern glare, "you're much too young to be dealing with that shit."

Kasumi didn't know what to say to that, so she wisely remained silent. "So," she asked after a few minutes. "What happened to suicide bombing Omega?"

"Got scuppered thanks to the nosy turian asshat," Zaeed grumbled. "He said if I really wanted to die that badly, I could do it while making myself useful."

"How?"

"Saving the galaxy," he shrugged. "Fighting the good fight. You know, usual bullshit."

"Is that what he wants from me?" Kasumi asked shrewdly. "Fighting the good fight?"

"That'd be a start."

"I'm a thief, gramps," she said with a hollow laugh. "In what reality would a thief and a mercenary fight to save a galaxy full of innocents?"

Zaeed casually pulled out an OSD and offered it to her. "Why don't you find out for yourself?"

* * *

 ** _Present._**

"I want the galaxy to be a safer place before he wakes up again," she murmured softly.

"Excuse me?" Miranda asked.

"Never mind. So tell me, Miranda," Kasumi said brightly. "When am I getting my special Cerberus suit?"

"Your what?"

"The suit. You know, like the one you're wearing. Every new recruit gets one, right?"

"This is a custom hardsuit specially made out of a high-density polymer, issued specifically to Cerberus' best field operatives," Miranda stated with no small amount of pride. "It's not a signing-up bonus."

"Aww, that's no fun," Kasumi pouted.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "I'm starting to wonder if we made the right decision by bringing you on board," she muttered quietly. "Shepard was bad enough. . ."

"Aw, c'mon. Don't be like that, Miranda!" The thief threw one arm over the taller woman's shoulder (with some difficulty). "We'll be the bestest of friends."

"No. And get your hands off me. . ."

"Say, will you give me a suit if I act all racist for a while? You know, Cerberus agenda and all that."

"For the last time, we are not a xenophobic organization!"

Thus, the two bickering ladies made their way into the less reputable regions of the Citadel, followed by a bemused Jacob.

* * *

 ** _Presidium. Citadel._**

David Anderson knew it was her the second she walked through his door.

The confidence with which she carried herself, that wide smile, that familiar mischievous twinkle in those bright green eyes. . .

No clone could ever mimic that. No imposter could possibly hope to fake that.

He knew, before she'd even spoken, that this was the real deal. This was Jane Shepard: his subordinate, his prized protégé and, dare he say it, the closest thing to a daughter he'd ever had. . .

"Commander," he said, turning away from the holograms of the Council. "We were just talking about you."

She shot him a warm smile. "It's been a long time, Anderson. I hope the last couple years have treated you right."

It took all of David's self-control to maintain his composure. Two years. Two damn years she was gone, and now she walks into his office like nothing's happened! He didn't know whether to embrace the damn kid or smack her up the head.

Then again, he mused, this was how Shepard had always been. Even during her ICT camp days she had a knack for pulling off the craziest stunts and then acting as though nothing had happened. It was why he had come to like her so much. Kid was as tough as they made 'em.

"There's been some rough spots," he said. In a lower voice he added, "It's good to have you back."

"We've heard many rumors surrounding your unexpected return, Commander," Valern, the salarian councilor interrupted them. "Some of them are. . unsettling."

The brief grimace that passed over Shepard's face was identical to his own. Rolling her eyes slightly, she stepped forward before the Council.

"My apologies, Councilors," she said smoothly. "I meant to inform you of my return a bit sooner, but found myself delayed by unavoidable circumstances."

This display of professionalism caused David Anderson to feel even prouder of his protégé. There was a reason, he reminded himself, that Jane Shepard had come so highly recommended for position of Spectre. She was easily one of the best officers the Alliance Academy had produced over the last decade. She understood decorum and protocol, and knew how to conduct herself before her superiors (personal opinions notwithstanding). A fine example of what both the Systems Alliance and humanity to the rest of the galaxy.

"We called this meeting so you could explain your actions, Shepard," Tevos said gently, who was the only person there (apart from David himself) who seemed sympathetic towards the young woman. "We owe you that much. After all, you saved our lives in the battle against Saren and his geth." The last part was almost a gentle rebuke to the other two.

To her credit, Shepard seemed to have noticed this as well. "The only action I've taken so far was to investigate the abductions of human colonists out in the Terminus Systems," she said earnestly. "So far, I've identified the kidnappers as the Collectors. Worse, there are indications that they're working for the Reapers."

"The Collectors!? Please!" Sparatus, the turian councilor, scoffed. "Everyone knows that they're nothing more than a myth!"

"They're much more than a myth, Councilor," Shepard countered. "And I have proof." She turned back to the door. "Professor, could you come in please?"

David watched in mild surprise as an old salarian ambled through the room and bowed slightly to the Council.

"Dr Mordin Solus," Valern nodded in acknowledgement.

"Councilor," Solus smiled.

"Dr Solus is a member of my team who's been studying all the data we've gathered on the Collectors," Shepard explained. "You can examine it if you like."

The three councilors briefly studied the information presented and exchanged looks. "Dr Solus is a very reputable scientist and a highly respected former member of the STG," Valern said. "The Council will accept his testimony regarding the Collectors."

"Be that as it may," Sparatus growled. "The Terminus Systems are still beyond our jurisdiction. Your colonies knew this when they left Council Space."

"You're missing the important part, Councilor," David interjected. "The Reapers are involved."

"Ah yes. ' _Reapers_ '," Sparatus said sarcastically, making quotation marks with his talons in the air. "The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space." He waved his hand loftily. "We have _dismissed_ that claim!"

The expression of utter shock on Shepard's face mirrored that on David's. The incredulous look they exchanged asked a simple question: _Is he being serious?_

But before either of them could voice their indignation, Tevos stepped forward.

"Councilor!" she snapped, drawing surprised looks from everyone. "I find it highly disrespectful that you would speak to Commander Shepard this way. Need I remind you that this person here is the reason we're all standing here today? Have you forgotten the sacrifices she and her race made in the defense of the Citadel two years ago?"

It was hard to tell who was more surprised by this passionate outburst, Sparatus (who looked like he'd just been slapped) or the other two Councilors, who had never seen Tevos be anything but calm and composed until now.

"That. . . that has nothing to do with this," he stammered, mandibles quivering in agitation. "No one denies the sacrifices of the Alliance. But there is no evidence to support these ridiculous claims!"

"Just like there was no evidence to support accusations of Saren's traitorous actions two years ago?" Tevos shot back.

"That's. . . Councilor, look. This whole business makes no sense! Do you honestly expect us to believe that there is a race of sentient machines hiding out there, waiting for a chance to eradicate all life in the galaxy?" He snorted derisively. "Preposterous!"

"I see. And you're willing to gamble the lives of your people on that statement?" Tevos asked coolly.

"What!?"

"It's simple: if Commander Shepard is indeed mistaken, then the only thing to worry about are the Collectors. But if she is right, then the lives of every single one of our people is at risk. Are we willing to risk billions of lives and the possible destruction of our homeworlds just because something sounds unlikely to be true?"

And that, in David's opinion, was the million-credit question. If Shepard was right (and he didn't doubt that for a second) then billions, if not trillions of lives were at stake. Sovereign alone had nearly destroyed the Citadel; an army of Sovereigns could destroy half the galaxy with practically no effort.

"But. . ." Sparatus began.

"Two years ago," she loudly overrode him. "We ignored a warning from Shepard for the exact same reasons, and it nearly cost us everything. Hundreds died, thousands suffered due to collateral damage when the geth came and attacked us in our very homes." She spread out her hands and made brief eye contact with all of them. "I ask you all now: are we going to make the same mistake again? Do we stand back and wait for the enemy to arrive at our doors instead of taking advantage of the opportunity we have?"

A tense silence followed this dramatic announcement. Finally, Sparatus spoke again. "That is all well and good. But that does not change the fact that we have no evidence whatsoever to prove the existence of these. . . Reapers."

Tevos bowed her head. "You're right that there is currently no evidence," she conceded. "However," she continued, causing Sparatus' smug expression to slip slightly, "just because we have no evidence doesn't mean we can't _find_ any."

"Commander Shepard," she addressed the woman directly. "I understand that your mission involves going through the Omega 4 relay?"

"Yes, Councilor."

"A risky undertaking. To my knowledge no ship has ever survived a trip of that sort. Tell us, what do you hope to find on the other side?"

"The Collector homeworld is my best guess. Or wherever they come from," Shepard answered.

"Then I have a motion to put forth before the Council," Tevos announced. "I propose that we order one of our Spectres to accompany Commander Shepard on her trip through the relay. Assuming that the Collectors are indeed working for the Reapers, there is bound to be solid evidence of their existence on their homeworld. It will be the appointed Spectre's responsibility to ensure that data is brought back to the Council, so that we may make an informed decision on the matter."

"I second the motion," David said without skipping a beat.

"I am opposed," Sparatus growled distastefully. "This is a waste of the Council's resources and time!"

All eyes turned towards Valern, who stood there blinking rapidly. David was under no delusions about their situation: this was a golden opportunity. If Valern sided with them, then they'd finally have the chance they needed to clear Shepard's reputation with the Alliance and resolve the Reaper matter once and for all. If he refused, then the Council would be deadlocked and they'd be back to square one.

The question now was: could they count on the slippery salarian councilor to do the right thing?

* * *

 **AN: Oh look, it's a cliffhanger! In the immortal words of a certain krogan: Heh-heh-heh.  
**

 **And yeah, Kasumi is one of Garrus' moles as well, though I'm sure most of you figured it out before this. She also happens to be the last of the people Archangel has reached out to, apart from Zaeed and you-know-who. From this point, all new recruits to Team Shepard will be genuine. Incidentally, Kasumi is also the only squad-mate whose backstory is different from canon.**

 **For once I wanted to see a Council meeting where an alien race stands up for humanity. The whole "Boo-hoo, the entire galaxy hates us" cliche gets boring pretty quickly, since almost every sci-fi franchise has this in some form.**

 **And as you might've noticed, all the squad-mates will be getting their own moments in this fic, like Zaeed did over here. So there's plenty of interesting moments to look forward to in the future.  
**

 **Next up: A meeting with some 'old friends' leads Garrus to discover something that may turn out to be the biggest clue to defeating the Reapers. Meanwhile, Valern makes the decision that will make or break Commander Shepard's mission. How will this turn out for our heroes?  
**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	14. Tales From the Citadel - II

**AN: First off, a belated Happy Christmas to everyone! Hope you folks continue to stay safe and have lots of fun for the coming new year!**

 **Now onto our story. . .**

* * *

 ** _Present. Presidium, Citadel._**

If there was one thing that Henall Valern's years in the STG had taught him, it was the value of patience. The hyperactive metabolism of salarians, combined with their comparatively short lifespan, made the very idea of slowing down seem ridiculous. But not to him. Valern had learned about the pitfalls of hasty decisions the hard way, which was why he always preferred to take his time before arriving at a decision.

Unfortunately, this part of his nature had earned him a reputation of being a particularly slippery salarian. Racism aside, Valern found it a bit hypocritical that members of species with much longer lifespans than his own attempted to make him out to be some kind of shadowy schemer just because he preferred to use his mind instead of blindly rushing into decisions.

But that was fine. Not everyone had seen the things he had. Not everyone had seen the real face of espionage and deceit, and the depths to which intelligence agencies could sink to just to gain an edge over their rivals.

Frankly, it was amazing he wasn't a paranoid wreck by now.

But that was a matter for a different day. Right now he had a decision to make. An _urgent_ one.

Valern cast a look around the room, briefly meeting the eyes of everyone present. His large eyes rested a fraction of a second longer on Shepard, the human at the center of this mess.

If he had to be perfectly honest, Valern didn't really have an opinion about Shepard either way. He respected the soldier's skill and tenacity, but was far too wary of humanity's ambition to give her a wide berth like the others. Granted she had saved their lives two years ago, but that was part of her responsibilities as a Spectre; not to mention that her entire race had profited through that move far more than they had any right to.

A seat on the Citadel Council, a chance to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the giants of this galaxy. . . these were opportunities any of the other species would have kiled for. And that too in such a short time since they'd become a space-worthy race. Was it any surprise that the majority of the galaxy still held them at arm's length?

But his opinions on the human race aside, there was still a decision to be made about this whole Reaper business; and it had to be made fast.

Valern suppressed a sigh. Frankly, he still wasn't completely convinced of the existence of these so-called Reapers, though in his case it was because he'd personally seen some very elaborate hoaxes one too many times. He'd always held a firm belief that if something sounded too ridiculous to be true, it mostly was.

And yet. . .

And yet the fact remained that there were too many inconsistencies to completely dismiss the possibilities of the Reapers. Sovereign's mysterious origins (to his knowledge, the STG was still trying to uncover more secrets about the sheer technological prowess of Saren's flagship), Shepard's inexplicable death and resurrection, this whole Collector business. . . it all painted a very unsettling picture in his mind.

But it still wasn't enough. He needed something more. Something that could convince him that he was, in fact, making the right decision.

Then inspiration struck. "Doctor Solus," he said. "What is your professional opinion about the chances of success of this mission?"

The older salarian stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hard to say. Too many unknowns. Too little data on Collectors. Omega 4 relay unmapped. Complete mystery," he muttered rapidly. "However, have had chance to observe Commander Shepard's performance during missions. Believe she can get the job done."

And that, in Valern's opinion, sealed the matter. Mordin Solus may be a lot of things, but he wasn't suicidal. A legend of the STG like him wouldn't throw his weight behind the Commander unless he was really confident that she could pull this off. Heck, someone with his intelligence wouldn't even bother to sign up for this mission without a good reason.

He nodded decisively. "I support the motion to have one of our Spectres accompany Shepard," he said aloud. Ignoring Sparatus' vocal expression of disgust, he turned to Tevos. "Is there anyone you have in mind?"

The asari shot him a warm smile. "I was thinking of nominating Tela Vasir for his role."

 _Oh, that is well played indeed. . ._ he thought wryly. Vasir's loyalty to her Councilor was well-known, and it also confirmed his suspicion that Tevos had her own agenda behind all this. The extent to which the wily asari had gone to plan all this impressed him in spite of himself. He returned the brief smile. "A sound idea. Tela Vasir is a veteran Spectre and a formidable fighter. She will be a valuable asset to your mission, Commander."

"Thank you, Councilor," the human nodded.

"While we're on the subject, perhaps we could discuss re-instating Shepard's Spectre status," David Anderson said anxiously. "It would be invaluable to her during this mission."

"I have no objections," Valern offered.

"Neither do I," Tevos said.

Everyone turned to look at the turian Councilor, who merely waved a hand dismissively. "Just do what you want," he growled.

"Then it is settled," Valern said, summing up the meeting. "Commander Jane Shepard, the Citadel Council hereby officially re-instates you to your position in the Special Tactics and Recon Division. You are hereby ordered to co-operate with fellow Spectre Tel Vasir and report to us after the completion of your mission. Any decision regarding these Reapers will be taken based on the evidence you submit thereafter. This meeting is hereby adjourned."

He paused and favored the human with a small smile. "Good luck, Commander. And I hope you will understand when I say that we sincerely wish you are mistaken about the Reapers."

"So do I, Councilor," she replied sadly. "So do I."

* * *

Shepard let out a deep breath as the holograms finally shut off. "That went well."

"Better than we could've hoped," Anderson agreed, nodding respectfully as Mordin Solus excused himself to give them some privacy.

"Yeah. I was pretty sure they were going to brush me off when Sparatus started his air-quoting," she scowled. "What's his deal anyway?"

Anderson shrugged. "Frankly, I'm not sure myself. I've worked with the man for two years and I know next to nothing about him, apart from the fact that he hates humans. Pretty sure we'd be having a very different discussion if he'd been allowed to have his way."

"Yeah. Tevos really came through for us back there. I'm pretty grateful, really."

"As am I," he said. "Still, it does make you wonder. . . why _did_ she stand up for you back there?"

"Maybe she knows something the others don't," Shepard guessed.

"Maybe. Or maybe she's got her own agenda, her own plans for you," Anderson stated. "You'd best be careful while dealing with this Tela Vasir."

"I will," she reassured him. "Though I gotta say: I never thought I'd hear you sound so much like a politician, _Councilor_." She smiled to show that she was joking.

"Well, if I recall correctly, you are the reason I got this job, _Commander_ ," he smiled back.

"Guilty as charged," she grinned, before becoming serious again. "Speaking of which, everyone keeps calling me 'Commander', but I don't even know if I have that rank anymore. Alliance regs aren't especially clear on coming back from the dead."

"Admiral Hackett and I have already discussed that," Anderson said. "He's going to make arrangements to have you slip back into Alliance ranks. Officially, you'll be listed as working on a classified mission under the Fifth Fleet's command. That should take care of any questions about the last two years."

"That's great," she said brightly. "Thank you, Anderson!"

"Don't thank me until it's done. Getting your Spectre status reinstated was the first step; it shows that the Council still has enough faith in you to keep you on. We should be able to use that to steamroller any objections from Alliance command."

"Is HQ giving you guys trouble?" she inquired.

Anderson sighed. "I won't lie to you, Shepard. The loss of the Normandy and your. . . absence hit us a lot harder than we thought. The handling of the whole situation caused a rift in the leadership back home, and it hasn't been completely resolved yet. I don't know if it ever will."

Shepard accepted this somber news with a silent nod. "Speaking of the Alliance, I heard my mom turned down her promoted."

"That's right," he smiled. "Captain Hannah Shepard was offered a promotion to Admiral, but she turned it down. She's currently on the SSV Orizaba. Want me to get you in touch with her?"

"Yeah. . . no. . .no, I don't think so. It's just. . I'm not sure how to face her right now." She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "There's so much going on and it's happening so fast. . ."

"I understand," Anderson said gently. "Let me know when you're ready to talk to her."

"I will." She paused. "What about my crew?"

"The surviving crew of the Normandy was reassigned, naturally. Mostly scattered all over the place. I only know about a few: Lieutenant Gregory Adams is currently serving aboard the SSV Kilimanjaro as an engineer, Lieutenant Commander Alenko is at HQ acting as an advisor for the BAaT program, Dr Chakwas is on leave and Lieutenant Moreau has been AWOL for a while now."

"Joker and Chakwas are with me," Shepard admitted. "They're part of my crew."

"I see," Anderson said neutrally.

"What about Ashley Williams?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Operations Chief Williams is still with the Alliance, but she's working on a special mission," he said finally. "It's classified. I can't say any more. Not while you're working with Cerberus. I'm sorry."

The last part hurt a bit more than she'd expected it to. "I'm not working with Cerberus because I want to, sir," she said quietly. "But I have no choice! The Alliance isn't doing anything to help all those colonists, and. . ."

Anderson held up a hand to interrupt her. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Shepard. I'm the last person you need to justify yourself to. It's just. . . this is a highly classified mission, and I simply can't take the risk of this information falling into the wrong hands."

"I understand," she conceded grudgingly.

Her mentor regarded her for a few moments before speaking again. "By the way, you should probably look forward to a promotion once Hackett reinstates you."

"Really?" she perked up slightly.

"You were posthumously awarded the rank of Staff Commander after your. . . temporary demise," he explained. "I think it's safe to say that the promotion will hold. You were due for one after the Battle of the Citadel anyway."

"Gee, thanks sir!" she said happily. "Oh, and while we're on the subject. . ."

"Yes?" he prompted.

The woman fidgeted slightly. "Do you think I could get vacation pay for the two years I was dead?" she asked hopefully.

Anderson glared at her slightly. "Don't push it, Commander."

"Now, you should probably get moving. The last thing we need is for Udina to see you here and. . ."

It was at this moment that Murphy's Law came into play, and Donnell Udina stormed through the door. "Anderson, we need to talk about. . ." He stopped in his tracks and stared in surprise. "Shepard? What are you doing here?"

Shepard was about to snap off a witty retort but Anderson beat her to it. "Udina! What's wrong?"

"'What's wrong'?" he repeated, putting on the legendary Donnel Udina Sneer™ #1, as only the true master could. "How about you explain why Shepard is here, and why I wasn't informed!?"

Anderson merely glanced around the office in a confused manner. "What are you talking about? There's nobody here."

Udina was taken aback, but then recovered quickly. "Are you calling me a liar, Anderson!?" he bellowed, puffing out his weak chest. "Shepard is standing right over there!"

"Shepard's dead, Udina," Anderson's stare was full of concern now. "She's been dead for two years."

"This-this is an outrage!" the ambassador said, though there was a definite note of panic in his voice. "She's-she's right there! Don't tell me you can't _see_ her!" He pointed a shaking finger at the smug-looking redhead.

"Maybe you need to lie down a bit," Anderson suggested. "You've obviously had a pretty long day."

"This. . . can't be," he croaked. "I-I'm not. . ."

Taking her cue, the Commander stepped forward. "Wooooooo!" she intoned in a spooky voice, stretching her arms outward. "I am the ghost of Festivus past! I have come to haunt you, Udina!"

The older man was shaking from head to toe now, his face pale and sweaty. "This isn't. . . I'm not. . ."

"Why did you let me die, Udina?" she demanded, putting on her creepiest expression. "Why did you send me to my death?"

At this, the ambassador's legs finally gave way and he hit the floor, knocking himself out in the process.

Anderson stared at the unconscious man for a few moments before shaking his head in a disappointed manner. "'Festivus past'? Was that really the best you could come with?"

"Hey, cut me some slack! I'm crap at improvising at this stuff, and you know that!" she protested.

He straightened up and folded his arms behind him. "You have much to learn, my young padawan."

"I look to you for guidance, my master," Shepard said with a deep bow.

Light-years away, a certain drell sitting in the Shadow Broker's lair stared at his surveillance feed in utter shock.

"What in the name of Arashu did I just watch?" Feron wondered aloud.

* * *

 _ **Citadel. Zakera Ward.**_

Boo the space hamster was living the life.

A breakfast of delicious nuts, and the rest of the day spent on his exercise wheel; all the while enjoying the sights and sounds of the brightly lit shopping district from his cage.

Yessiree. Today was a good day to be a space hamster.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to last for very long.

Boo was almost thrown out of his wheel as his cage rocked violently. Taking a moment to steady himself, he blinked and looked upwards. . . .

And nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

Two large, blue reptilian eyes gazed back at him through the window in his cage. Even as he watched, a large tongue slithered out and licked a pair of lips, briefly exposing a massive mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

"Heh-heh-heh."

The guttural sound caused the little hamster to reflexively lay a few pellet sized. . . er. . . presents on the floor of his cage. Closing his eyes, he sent out a silent prayer to all the furry gods of existence, begging for help.

Turns out today was still his lucky day.

"Hey Grunt! I'm back! What's that you've got there?" a voice suddenly said.

"Er. . ." Before the predator could think of a response, Boo's cage was quickly snatched out of his hands. The space hamster blinked as the reptilian blue eyes were replaced with a pair of beautiful emeralds.

"He's so cute!" the new creature squealed. "You were buying this for me? Oh Grunt, you shouldn't have!"

"Er. . . I was going to eat that. . ." the beast mumbled.

But the green-eyed creature didn't seem to hear him. "That's really sweet of you, Grunt! But I can buy him myself. And that reminds me, I really should start giving you an allowance!"

"Hmmm. An allowance?" The predator rumbled thoughtfully. "Alright, I guess."

"Great! Now let's just get our newest member home." The green-eyed giant reached out to pat his cage affectionately. "Don't worry, little guy. I'll take good care of you."

Boo heaved a small sigh. This one seemed, if possible, even more hyperactive than he was. But it was still better than getting eaten, so what the hell. . .

A space hamster could do worse.

* * *

Unfortunately, Commander Shepard was finding it a little bit difficult to channel her hamster's optimism right now.

"9,200 credits!?" she exclaimed in utter disbelief. "That's daylight robbery!"

"Ma'am, please," the store clerk said nervously. "As I just said, proceeds from this purchase will. . ."

"I heard you the first time!" Shepard snapped. She then took a deep breath. "Look, can't we work out a discount or something?"

"Our store doesn't offer discounts to Citadel employees. . ."

"But I'm a Spectre!" she protested. "And not just any Spectre, I'm _the_ Spectre. I'm Commander Shepard!"

"Commander Shepard?" The asari blinked in surprise. " _The_ Commander Shepard?" It was then that she noticed the red and white stripes on her armor, and the distinctive appearance of the human female. "Goodness, it really _is_ you!"

"That's right," she said smugly. "Now, about that discount?"

"Yes. . . well. . . I suppose we could arrange something for the Savior of the Citadel." The asari quickly activated her console. "Please, just speak an endorsement into here."

Shepard cleared her throat. "I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel."

"Excellent, thank you! With the discount, it will be 7,666 credits."

After paying for her purchase and arranging to have her hamster transported to their ship, Shepard rejoined the others. "Not too shabby, Commander," Zaeed grunted. "You know how to haggle, I'll give you that."

"Thanks Zaeed," Shepard said, her eyes slowly scanning all the other brightly lit shops in the area. "Say, this just gave me an idea. . . ."

The rest of team took one involuntary step away from her. "I got a very bad feeling about this," Zaeed murmured.

The slow evil smirk that crept over Commander Shepard's face would have made a certain furry green-skinned recluse feel proud.

* * *

 ** _An hour later._**

" _I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel."_

" _I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel."_

" _I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel."_

It was that a very happy Commander Shepard made her way back to the docking bay. With Grunt and Mordin flanking her and Zaeed bringing up the rear, she whistled a jaunty tune as the sound of her own voice rang through the wards. Occasionally, she paused to glance at her account balance and smirked at all the credits she'd saved.

Yessiree. Today, was a great day to be Commander Jane Shepard.

Unfortunately, it seemed like that wasn't going to last very long.

"Commander Shepard? Commander Shepard, a moment of your time please!"

She blinked as a woman in a long dress stepped into her path, a camera bot hovering in the air beside her. "Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News," she introduced herself.

"Er. . . have me met before?"

"I interviewed you two years ago, when you first became a Spectre?" she reminded her. "You punched me when my questions hit too close to home."

"What? No way! I wouldn't do something like that," Shepard said defensively.

"I have the whole thing on camera, Commander," Khalisah said, firing up her omni-tool.

As the recording started to play, Shepard's mind flashed back to the day in question.

 _ **Two years ago. . .**_

" _Can I help you?" Shepard growled._

 _Despite the way she phrased it, Commander Shepard was far from being in a helpful mood. She'd just found out that she'd wasted her credits in buying the HMWA VI barely a week before its successor, the HMWA VII came out. Now, despite having using it for a little over a fortnight, the turian Requisitions officer was refusing to refund her credits, claiming that they had a strict "No-Return" policy. He even had the gall to say that he thought she was being a little too picky, since there wasn't much of a difference between the two rifles anyway, but that was just his opinion._

 _Personally, she thought he was being a cheap racist bastard, but that was just **her** opinion._

" _Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News," she said formally. "Would you answer a few questions for our viewers?"_

" _Look miss, I'm kinda in a hurry here. . ."_

" _It's just a few questions, Commander. Nothing to feel shy about."_

" _I'm not shy!"_

" _So you don't mind answering, then? That's great!" She activated her camera bot before the other woman could say another word. "So Commander Shepard, what does it feel like to be the first human on the elite Spectre team of the Council?"_

" _Well. . ."_

" _Is it true that you're already being asked to disregard the Alliance's orders and report directly to the alien Council?"_

" _What? No! I. . ."_

" _Is it true that the Council has been secretly developing a special breed of mind control worms to take control of human minds by burrowing into our ears?"_

" _Lady, are you insane. . ."_

" _Is it true that you've sold your soul to your alien masters? Is it true that you're secretly feeding them inside information to take over Earth and enslave all of humanity by. . ."_

 _The last thing Khalisah saw was an armored fist headed right at her face before her world dissolved into blackness._

 _ **Present.**_

"Okay. . ." Shepard said slowly. "I'll admit that could have gone a lot better."

"So you'll give another interview then?" Khalisah asked cheerfully. "That's great!"

"Wait! I never said. . ."

Once again, her protests went unheeded as the reporter activated her camera. "So, Commander Shepard," she began. "Sources claim you were at the heart of the Presidium during the Battle of the Citadel. It's fair to say the course of the battle hinged on your words. If true, you told Admiral Hackett to assist the Destiny Ascension, costing hundreds of human lives and securing the continued dominance of the Citadel Council."

Shepard cleared her throat. "Well. . ."

"Is it true that you purposefully sacrificed your own species to save your true alien masters?"

"Of course not!" Shepard objected. "And you're not even letting me answer. . ."

"It's true, isn't it?" Khalisah pressed on. "You really _have_ sold your soul to the aliens with mind-controlling parasites!"

"No. . ."

"That is, of course, assuming you had a soul to sell in the first place. . ."

"GAAAHHHH!" Shepard roared in rage. "I'VE," she put her left foot forward, "HAD ENOUGH," she cocked her right arm, "OF YOUR" she swung her fist forward with all her might, "DISINGENUOUS ASSERTIONS!"

WHAM!

The stunning blow swept the reporter clean off her feet, bloody fragments of her teeth flying out from her mouth. Without so much as a scream of pain, Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani hit the floor, completely out cold.

Zaeed took one look at the fallen reporter and shook his head. "Goddamn, that was intense."

"Hmmm. . . 'disingenuous assertions'," Grunt rumbled thoughtfully. "A great battle-cry! I like it!"

"This," Shepard panted hard. "I knew. . . this was a mistake. Hey Mordin, could you. . ?"

"Already taken care of." He gestured at the camera bot lying in a smoking heap at his feet. "Also wiped out memory core, just to be safe."

"Thank you," the Commander said gratefully.

"No matter. Aware of the therapeutic value of punching obnoxious reporters." He glanced at the unconscious woman. "Have a favor to ask. . ."

"No, Mordin. We are _not_ going to take her back to the ship just so you can use her for your experiments," she said flatly.

"For science," he insisted.

"No. Just no. You want a guinea pig so badly, you can simply use Chambers. Look," she shot a wary glance around the shopping district. "I'm not entirely sure if my newly reinstated Spectre status will protect us from this. Let's not stick around to find out."

And so the Fearsome Foursome walked away from the scene of the crime, leaving Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani to reflect on her poor life choices. Whenever she woke up, that is.

* * *

 ** _1 hour later. Citadel._**

Alone in a dimly lit office in the Lower Wards, a volus typed away rapidly at his console, pausing every now and then to check something from the pile of OSDs on his table.

"Hey, Jahleed! What're you doing?"

The volus let out a deep sigh. "It's called 'working', Chorban," he wheezed. "Ever heard of it?"

"Meh," the salarian muttered, stuffing a few insect-like crisps into his mouth. "Let's go hit a few rounds on the quasar machines."

"We did that only three days ago."

"Exactly," Chorban exclaimed. "It's been three whole days! Do you know how long that is in salarian years?"

"No I don't, and right now I couldn't care less," his partner replied firmly. "I've got to finish these reports by today."

"Pffft! Reports!" Chorban stretched back and put his hands behind his head. "Like that's of any benefit to us."

"As I recall, that _is_ how we make money to fund all our entertainment trips to Flux and Chora's Den," Jahleed reminded him.

"Please! We both know the money we get is barely a fraction of what we deserve," the salarian scoffed. "This research is the first of its kind! We should be publishing before the entire galaxy, presenting it before the Council; not holed up in this. . . this smelly little hole!"

"More likely we'd end up in prison," Jahleed muttered. "Or have you forgotten that what we're doing here is strictly illegal?"

"Yeah, yeah," Chorban yawned. "Look, all I'm saying is, why are we even working so hard? All these reports are for _whose_ benefit exactly? And before you say Archangel, I should remind you that we haven't heard from the turian even once in the last few months."

"Maybe he's busy with other projects," Jahleed suggested. "This can't be his only line of work, could it?"

"Or maybe he doesn't care anymore," the salarian countered. "Maybe he's lost interest in the Keepers, and us, altogether."

"Or maybe," a flanged voice interjected. "He's wondering what exactly you guys are doing with all your funding money."

Jahleed nearly died of shock as their benefactor suddenly materialized out of thin air. Behind him, Chorban shrieked and fell out of his chair.

"So," the turian drawled, fixing them both with a menacing stare. "I'm starting to understand why your requests for credits keep increasing by the month. Gambling and strippers, guys. Really?"

"B-b-b-boss," Jahleed stammered. "W-w-we were j-j-just going to. . ."

"We're working hard, I swear!" Chorban screamed from his position in the floor. "Honest!"

"'Honest' is a word I would never use regarding you two," Archangel said. "But it doesn't matter, I'm not here to listen to your excuses." He casually took Chorban's abandoned chair as the salarian got to his feet. "Now, your last report said you had something important to show me."

"Well. . . yeah, we did. I mean-we _do_ ," Jahleed wheezed, looking to his friend helplessly.

"Er. . . yes. Of course," the salarian cleared his throat. "We've uncovered something pretty important about the Keepers."

"I'm listening."

"In our initial reports, we'd mentioned that we studied the Keepers' genetic makeup," Chorban explained. "We found out they'd been bio-engineered, and since then we've been analyzing a bunch of different tissue samples from around the galaxy to see what they were engineered from."

"And you found. . .?"

"Nothing," Jahleed interjected. "No matches whatsoever, even after studying _hundreds_ of different organic samples. So we decided to date the tissue samples and see if their age could give us a clue."

"What we found was shocking to say the least." Chorban fumbled with the pile of OSDs on the desk. "Take a look, sir."

Archangel studied the information carefully. "You compared it to _Sovereign's_ wreckage!?"

"There was a lot of salvage being sold on the black market after the attack on the Citadel," the salarian shrugged. "We just bought it and analyzed it on a whim. Imagine our surprise when we realized that it was not metal but bio-synthetic _tissue_ we were looking at!"

"So we ran another comparison using that, and we were stunned. Get this: according to our findings, the Keepers were engineered millions of years ago. . . by the same people who made Sovereign!"

The turian's face might as well have been made out of stone. "I see," he said neutrally.

The two researchers exchanged uncomfortable looks. "Sir. . . I don't think you understand what this means," Chorban said nervously. "This suggests that the Citadel wasn't really made by the Protheans! It may have been made by something far older, with the Keepers as organic guardians. And what's more, based on our genetic readings, they're supposed to react to. . . something, some signal or something. . . about every 50 thousand years. You can measure genetic variances; it's a bit like comparing rings on a tree to see the drought years."

"Anyways. . whoever did this. . . well, around the last time this signal went off would be around the time the Protheans disappeared. And it's scheduled to go off sometime around now. If any of the old tech still works, they could have some nasty surprises waiting for us."

As expected, this got a reaction out of Archangel. He let out a deep breath. "You're right. This _is_ disturbing," he muttered. "Tell me, have you managed to find out more about this signal?"

The two of them shifted awkwardly on their feet. "Well, yeah. . . we tried," Jahleed mumbled.

Archangel narrowed his eyes at them. "What did you do?"

"Erm. . . well. . . we. . ."

"What did you do?" he repeated sternly.

"Perhaps it'd be better if you saw it for yourself," Jahleed suggested nervously.

The turian sighed and got to his feet. "Show me."

They led the way into an inner room in the apartment. "You have to understand," Chorban blurted out, wringing his hands. "We knew you'd want to know more about the signal. . . so. . ."

They paused before a door, and at Archangels' glare, hesitantly moved to open it. The electronic lock opened the doors with a swish to reveal. . .

Nothing.

"And just _what_ am I supposed to be looking at?" Archangel asked, a bite of impatience in his voice.

Jahleed pointed at a small puddle of dried up sludge on the floor. "That's all that is left of it now."

The turian's mind seemed to race a mile a minute. "You guys kidnapped and brought a Keeper in here for study!?"

"Well. . .'kidnapped' is probably too strong a word. . ."

"I don't care what the word is," he snapped. "I want to know how you guys managed to get your hands on a live Keeper and bring it all the way here!"

Chorban flinched slightly. "It was Jahleed's idea. . ."

The volus shot him a fierce glare. "I-I devised this special kind of spray to preserve the Keepers' tissue samples," he explained nervously. "Then I started thinking: what if there was a way to use this spray to capture a Keeper?"

"We eventually figured out that it was theoretically possible to contain a Keeper if it was placed in a biotic field seconds after being sprayed with the preservation fluid. But neither of us are biotics, so we decided to get help."

"From whom?"

"Well. . . there's this asari who frequents Chora's Den a lot," Chorban said. "One day we saw her arguing with the manager over paying her tab. So we offered to settle it for her if she did us a small favor."

"So you just grabbed a random asari and brought her all the way here with a stolen Keeper!?" Archangel asked incredulously.

"She was drunk out of her mind," the salarian said defensively. "There's no way she'd ever be able to track us back all the way to this place with that much alcohol in her system!"

"Spirits! Only you two would be capable of pulling that off," the turian sighed. "Alright, so you managed to dupe someone into kidnapping a Keeper. What happened next?"

"Well, we tried to isolate it in this room, blocking out signal frequencies to see what would happen. Naturally, that didn't go so well," Jahleed sighed.

"The thing just went berserk! Even started screeching a little before it exploded. However, we got something interesting out of that too." The excitement was palpable in Chorban's voice. "Just before it turned into goo, the Keeper broadcast a pico-second long signal with a unique frequency. It was much too fast for us to analyze the signal itself, but enough for us to trace where it went. And guess what we found?"

"What?"

"The signal was headed towards somewhere within the Citadel," the salarian said happily. "Possibly from somewhere within the Hidden levels!"

"And just what are these Hidden Levels exactly?" Archangel inquired.

"Contrary to what most people believe, the Citadel has never been fully charted out," Jahleed explained. "Only seventeen levels on this place are currently in use."

"And the rest?"

"Are still a mystery," Chorban said in a hushed whisper. "Every few years, the STG will send some explorers down to the hidden Levels. And get this: none of them have ever returned!"

"That sounds like something out of an urban legend," Archangel said.

"It does, but we think we have evidence that it's more than just a myth," Jahleed declared. "There's something down there in the deepest levels of the Citadel which is controlling the Keepers, and through them the whole Citadel, using some kind of signal; and whatever it is, it's been doing this for millions of years!"

For a long time the turian remained silent, simply staring into the empty room. Just when the other two started feeling nervous, he spoke. "You two have done well. Very well, in fact."

"We have?" Chorban asked in surprise.

"You have," Archangel agreed. "You might not know it, but you just helped me figure out something very important right now."

"Which is?"

"None of your concern," he said firmly. "But this does merit a reward. I'll make sure you get a bonus for this excellent work."

"Really?" Jahleed exclaimed.

"Of course. And I'm going to get your research budget padded up a bit as well. Your next assignment is to continue researching these Hidden Levels. Get me whatever you can find."

"We won't let you down, Boss!" the volus said happily.

"I know," he said shortly, walking back to the exit. "I'll have the credits transferred shortly. In the meantime, compile all your findings in a report. I want to study it later."

"Consider it done, Boss," Jahleed declared.

"Say. . uh. .. can we get a little extra for our. . .um. . .entertainment expenses?" Chorban requested.

The turian paused at the door to glare at him, but his mandibles seemed to flutter slightly in amusement. "Don't push it." With that, he disappeared into thin air.

For a few minutes the two friends just stared at the spot where he'd vanished. "Damn. That is so badass," Chorban muttered.

Jahleed merely nodded in silent agreement.

* * *

As he walked towards the Presidium, Garrus activated his visor. "Liara, did you get all that?"

"I did," she confirmed, her voice ringing through his earpiece. "That is some very disturbing news, Garrus."

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Spirits, Liara, I've been an idiot."

"What are you talking about?" She seemed confused.

"I ignored something that was right in front of me all along. Something that all my training at C-Sec should've led me to deduce easily by now." He snorted slightly. "Boy, would Dad be pissed if he ever found out. . ."

"Garrus," Liara said cautiously. "You're not making any sense."

Garrus exhaled as he leaned against the railing of the Presidium lake. "All this time I always assumed that the Reapers controlled everything from the shadows. _Literal_ shadows. I assumed that they ran their operations from their hidey hole in Dark Space, but that's not how it works at all."

"It's right here, Liara! The core of the problem! The reason the Citadel turned out to be the Catalyst, the reason they were able to take over it so easily and transport it all the way to Earth. . ."

A sharp intake of breath signaled that his friend had finally caught on as well. "By the Goddess! Garrus, you don't mean. . !"

"I do," he said softly, his eyes taking in the vast expanse of the Presidium; the tranquil beauty of the structure now warped by his realization of the ugly truth. "The very core of the Reapers, the nerve center of their network is right here. . . _inside_ the Citadel! It's always been here! It's how they're able to observe all the species of our galaxy, how they determine the right time to launch their invasion, how they know which species needs to left alone and which need to be harvested. . ."

"That' the real genius behind their plan. It doesn't matter what we do; as long as the Citadel, and by extension the relays are still there, we'll always lose. As long as the cycles continue to build their way of life around this place, the Reapers will always win!"

For a long moment Liara didn't respond. Then she spoke. "How are we going to fight them now, Garrus?"

"I don't know," Garrus admitted, still looking over the Presidium. "Spirits help me, I don't know. . ."

* * *

 **AN: So, I might have gone a little overboard with the humor in this chapter. But I with the holidays, Star Wars and so many things going there was no way I could resist. Plus, I firmly believe that there's no such thing as too much laughter.  
**

 **And yes, Tela Vasir is going to be a part of Shepard's squad now. Not as a regular member, but she'll definitely be a part of the more important missions.  
**

 **A major plot point has also been explained in this chapter. I've decided to stick with the idea that the core of the Reapers' intelligence is housed within the Citadel. It's not that unbelievable when you consider the ending of ME3. Not to mention I've always found the idea of Harbinger controlling his ground troops and reacting in real time while still being in Dark Space a bit ridiculous. But if we assume that whatever signal he sends is routed through the Citadel, it's possible that there's an advanced QEC thingy that allows him to possess the Collector General in real time, and through him the rest of the drones.**

 **Naturally, this will be a lot more relevant in the final installment during the Reaper invasion. It sure won't be easy on our heroes.**

 **Oh, and since the next update will only be a week later, I'd like to wish you all a very happy and prosperous New Year in advance. :)  
**

 **Next up: Shepard and Garrus set off to add a crazy convict to their mentally unbalanced squad. Elsewhere storm clouds are gathering on the horizon as the most ancient of all Reapers prepares to make his first move against our heroes. What'll happen next?  
**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	15. The Flames of Purgatory

**AN: Hi everyone! Hope you all had a great time with the New Year!  
**

 **Now onto the story:**

* * *

 ** _Present. Ismar Frontier._**

A lone ship drifted idly in the void of space, its engines propelling it with surprising silence and efficiency for a vessel of such large proportions.

The ship itself was a cruiser-class vessel, its massive size making everything in its vicinity seem infinitesimal in comparison. But the most striking feature of the craft was not its size, but rather its construction. At first glance it almost looked like a misshapen fragment of an asteroid, but the closer one got the easier it became to spot the metallic superstructure underlying the organic protrusions.

Its very existence seemed to defy the laws of physics, which was just as well perhaps because its inhabitants defied the laws of nature itself.

Within its vast halls dozens of strange bipedal insect-like creatures scurried about, working with a detached and almost machine-like efficiency. They operated consoles and observed the walls lined with hive-like layer of pods, some of which contained living humans in a perpetual state of suspended animation. The prisoners slumbered with serene expressions on their faces, mercifully unaware of the horrifying fate that awaited them.

And above this all, in the central chamber of the ship, sat a massive creature. With an overly large head, stunted body and multiple claw-like limbs, the Collector General looked more alien than any of its minions as it furiously typed away at the central console.

While a part of the General's organo-synthetic mind observed the reports coming in from the ship's sensors, the majority was more concerned with compiling all the data before it. For all the data they had recently gathered pertained to something of grave importance to its masters; so important, in fact, that even the General felt a small spike of fear as it prepared to transmit its report.

The report spoke of an enemy that had set its sights upon their operation. It spoke of a team that was hot on their trail, it spoke of a ship that had fallen to their might two years ago, it spoke of an old enemy the Collectors had believed dead at their hands, one who had returned from beyond the void to disrupt the masters' plans once again. . .

It spoke of the one known as Shepard.

 ** _Shepard. . . ._**

Billions of light-years away, in the unfathomable void of a Dark Space, a behemoth slumbered. Its great mind idly processed the reports coming in from its minions, and one word in particular caught the ancient one's attention.

 _ **Shepard. . .**_

Four eyes, glowing in the darkness with a degree of malevolence unsurpassed in the known universe, lit up like a blinding beacon of light. Its massive arms uncoiled from their usual spot beneath its underbelly, its sheer presence seemingly warping the very fabric of reality.

And the one known as Harbinger awoke.

" **Assuming Direct Control."**

A crippling wave of pain suddenly overloaded the General's senses, and it fell to the floor as its console lit up with a golden hologram. The General let out a small chittering shriek of pain as its eyes glowed and its neurons practically smoked from the energy flowing through them. In a matter of seconds the General's mind was suppressed, as its true master forced itself through its very consciousness and ruthlessly wrested command of its faculties.

" **I will direct this personally."**

For a few more seconds the General continued to twitch on the floor. Then it slowly got to its feet, its mind now fully taken over by the ancient one's presence. Harbinger raised its head, and with nary a thought pulled up everything the General had compiled on Shepard on the console screen.

 **"Shepard. . . ."**

If its vast intellect was capable of processing as base an emotion as hatred, then there was no one else in the galaxy it would despise more than the human named Shepard. The pathetic insect had done more damage to their cause than any organic in the last several thousand cycles: she had vanquished Nazara, the gatekeeper. It was still something that Harbinger, despite its near-infinite intelligence, found difficult to comprehend; that the one who had rung in the extinction of so many cycles had allowed itself to be annihilated by a organic barely more evolved than a primate.

It was why Harbinger had personally directed the Collectors to destroy Shepard's ship two years ago. It had believed it sufficient, that the extermination of that microbe would be enough retaliation for the loss they had suffered. It had believed, to its detriment, that the cycle could go on unabated after that.

But it was not enough. Shepard had risen again, with new allies at her side and a ghost of the same ship sailing through the galaxy. And she was once again becoming an obstacle to their plans.

Unacceptable.

It took the Reaper a mere millionth of a second to compile all the gathered data on the wretched human, and in another thousandth of a second it had identified no less than three hundred scenarios in which it could vanquish this troublesome vermin.

But that was not enough. Killing Shepard wasn't enough. Not anymore. It wanted, no. . . it _needed_ to punish the human. For daring to interfere with their plans, for destroying Nazara, for believing even for a moment that her kind could defy the order of the galaxy, for daring to stand in the path of those infinitely her greater. . .

For this insolence, Shepard had to suffer. And suffer she would.

Before the second was over Harbinger had pulled up two images on the console. One was their most recent image of Shepard, extracted from the combat footage of the slums in Omega. The second was that of a human female wearing a uniform of the Systems Alliance.

Operations Chief Ashley Williams. Currently stationed on the planet Horizon in the Iera System, of the Attican Traverse cluster. Former crew of the SSV Normandy SR1. Shepard's crew. . .

Perfect.

Decision made, Harbinger set the Collector Cruiser's course to the planet of Horizon. Not only would this net them a new batch of humans to send on their way to ascension, but destroying an organic seemingly important to Shepard would land a massive blow upon her pitiful psyche. And that would only be the first step towards her complete annihilation.

As the ship vibrated on the preparation of its FTL jump, Harbinger's glowing eyes settled once again on the red-haired human in the first image.

" **You will know pain, Shepard,"** it promised **.**

It would make sure of that.

* * *

 _ **Present. Purgatory.**_

". . . ship is made up of 30 cell blocks identical to this one—we house thousands of criminals. We can put the whole place in lock-down on a moment's notice. Nothing goes wrong here."

It was with great difficulty that Commander Jane Shepard resisted the urge to yawn in the face of the blathering turian. Really, who the hell had even asked him to play tour guide anyway?

If she had to be completely honest though, she didn't even want to be here. The last thing she needed to add to her already unbalanced squad was some psychotic convict, but Garrus had convinced her that this Jack (who was a woman, apparently) would make a fine addition to their arsenal. She was forced to concede that point, since their current biotic artillery consisted of only Miranda and Jacob; a third, possibly stronger, fighter would only benefit them in the long run.

 _Still, just because I **have** to do this doesn't mean that I have to **like** it. . . _

To be fair, there was a reasonable explanation for the Commander's sulky demeanor. During her pre-bedtime _Galaxy Of Fantasy - Online_ session, Shepard had made the mistake of wandering into a territory with high-level opponents. After spending several hours getting her behind handed to her, and only escaping at the last minute thanks to some fancy sniper work by a guy called InfiltratorN7, a rather irritated Jane Shepard hit the sack, only to spend the next few hours tossing and turning in her bed. Her irritation was only further exacerbated when she finally gave up sleep as a lost cause and went downstairs to find the coffee machine broken.

To say that Shepard was pissed would the understatement of the century. She was in such a bad mood that she actually left Miranda behind on the ship when the bossy brunette made a snarky comment about her hair. Then she nearly lost it when a suicidal guard at the docking bay actually had the audacity to demand that she, Commander- _fucking_ -Shepard, hand over her weapons. Had Kuril not had the sense to step in, she might've stormed back to the Normandy and ordered Joker to reduce the whole of Purgatory to smithereens, recruitment be damned.

 _Then again, that would still be an improvement. . ._ she thought, glaring at the obnoxiously boastful turian merc leader. It did not help that Jacob, being the idealist he was, was currently challenging Kuril's self-serving rant about protecting the galaxy.

"You don't have to agree with my methods, but don't question my motives. These are despicable people and I am keeping them locked up," Kuril sniffed haughtily.

"Doesn't change the fact that you're still running an extortion racket," Jacob pointed out.

"Ah yes, ' _extortion_ '," Kuril said sarcastically, making quotation marks with his talons in the air. "'The act of coercing people or institutions into providing money.'" He sniffed disdainfully. "We have dismissed that claim."

Somewhere within Commander Shepard's sleep-deprived caffeine-starved mind, the sight of the air-quoting turian awakened a primal instinct. With the memory of another profoundly irritating air-quoting turian swimming to the front, she found herself unconsciously reaching for her shotgun.

"I'm going to confirm that the funds from Cerberus cleared," he continued. "Out-processing is straight down this hallway. Just keep going past the interrogation rooms and. . . ."

BOOM!

Kuril barely had time to widen his eyes in surprise before the blast from Shepard's Eviscerator tore his skull apart. The entire squad, and a few Blue Suns mercs nearby, watched in shock as his headless corpse slumped to the floor.

Zaeed, Mordin and Garrus were the fastest to recover, quickly gunning down the closest threats. Then they too joined the others in gaping at the heavily breathing Commander.

Surprisingly, it was Kasumi who broke the silence. "Um. . . Shep?" She carefully reached out to touch the other woman's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I. . ." Shepard blinked hard. "I'm fine. . . I think. What just happened?"

" _That_ just happened," Garrus answered, pointing to the corpse lying at their feet.

"Oh." She rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment. "Umm. . . oops?"

"Oops?" he repeated snarkily. "Oops as in, 'I just killed the leader of the band of mercs who run the station'?"

"Oh lay off it, Garrus! Please," she groaned. "I swear, you screw up once and they don't let you hear the end of it."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Zaeed shrugged.

"Big surprise," Kasumi rolled her eyes.

Predictably, Grunt was the only one excited about this. "Ha! Right in the face!" he roared, smashing his fists together. "You don't waste time, Shepard. I like it!"

"Thanks. . . I guess," Shepard rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "I don't suppose we could simply offer the mercs a little extra and ask them to forget about this?"

Garrus merely folded his arms and stared at her.

"I know, I know. . . we're going to have to kill everyone, won't we?" she sighed.

"Would have had to do that regardless," Mordin said. "Have been hacking into comm systems ever since we entered. Strong evidence that warden was planning to betray us rather than release Jack."

"Oh, that's nice!" Shepard said brightly. "Guess that means I wasn't wrong after all."

"So what now, Commander?" Jacob asked, as the sound of several approaching footsteps echoed throughout the metallic corridor.

"Now," Shepard drew her Vindicator and cracked her neck. "Now we go and liberate our newest team member."

* * *

The fight through the corridors was a breeze, largely in part due to Grunt's size giving him an incredible advantage in close quarters. Pretty soon the group found themselves in the control room which contained access codes to all the cell blocks on the ship.

"Hmm. . . oh this is bad," Kasumi muttered after examining the central console for a few moments.

"Why?"

"The system is built on a single node," she explained. "If we hack this control, it will release Jack from cryo. . . along with opening every other door in the cell block."

The idea of releasing all the inmates together made Shepard grimace slightly, but she also intuitively knew there wasn't much of a choice. They had spent much more time aboard this vessel than they'd originally intended to; there was a good chance the Suns had called for backup by now. They had to move fast.

"Then I'm doing it. Be ready," she said, moving her hand towards the console, only for Garrus to grab it suddenly.

"Garrus, what're you. . . ?"

"Why do _you_ always get to push the buttons?" he demanded.

Shepard blinked. "What!?"

"You're always the one activating the buttons!" he said accusingly. "Even back on the old Normandy you always insisted on pressing every button we saw. You wouldn't even let us open a door on our own!"

"That's. . . that's cause I'm your Commander," Shepard said, slapping his hand away. "As your leader, it's my duty to personally handle sensitive stuff like that."

"Liar! You just like pushing shiny buttons, don't you?" he growled.

"So what if I do? You got a problem with that!?"

"I'm just saying you should let me activate the controls once in a while," he reached out for the central console.

"Oh no you don't," Shepard growled, trying to push him away. "I'm your Commanding Officer, and only I get to activate consoles!"

"But I have seniority," Garrus grunted, pushing her back.

"I don't care, I'm still your CO!"

"That doesn't apply here."

"Insubordination!" she cried. "I'll have you thrown in the brig for your behavior, Vakarian!"

"The SR2 doesn't _have_ a brig, Commander. Now move aside!"

"Then I'll _make_ one for you, you disobedient turian ass. . ."

"Get off me, Shepard. . ."

The sudden wailing of an alarm startled them out of their argument. The dynamic duo blinked in surprise and turned as one to fix angry glares at the impish looking thief standing in front of the controls.

"Sorry, but I've always wanted to do that," Kasumi grinned. "You have no idea how rare button-pushing is in my line of work."

Shepard's response was cut off by a large grinding noise. The group moved towards the window overlooking the large room beneath them, where three YMIR heavy mechs were getting to their feet and turning towards a cylindrical cell block rising from the floor. With a loud hissing sound the cryo-unit popped open, giving them their first view of the one called Jack.

"Hey! I thought you said Jack was a girl!" Shepard turned a disbelieving stare on the turian.

"Well, that _is_ a human girl," Garrus pointed out.

"Could've fooled me," Jacob muttered.

"Oh, this is not good. . ." Kasumi said, as the extremely thin tattooed woman stumbled drunkenly towards the heavy mechs, who raised their guns as one.

With a roar of rage that belied her apparent weakness Jack leapt forward, her fist glowing with biotic energy. The entire group stared in open-mouthed shock as the thin woman single-handedly engaged all three heavy mechs by herself.

"We have to get down there," Garrus yelled in alarm.

"Let's go," Shepard ordered, leading the way out. She just prayed that they'd get there in time.

* * *

Turns out her concern was largely unwarranted. By the time the gang reached the room with the cryo-cell, the YMIR mechs had already been reduced to scrap metal.

That only left them with the task of tracking Jack down. They just had a couple hundred insane prisoners and pissed off mercs standing in their way.

Still, Shepard mused, it wasn't as bad as it could've been. With most of the prisoners focused on attacking their jailers, her team was having a pretty easy job so far. The trail of dead bodies that Jack left in her wake was also pretty helpful in charting a route out of the chaos of the prison complex.

Privately speaking, she actually preferred this turn of events. Not only was Shepard getting a much-needed chance to blow off some steam by shooting things, but she also got a chance to see the two newest members of her team in action.

To give credit where it was due, both of them were performing pretty well so far. Kasumi was quick and nimble on her feet, and used her Tactical Cloak to its fullest in combat. Her trademark move involved her sneaking up on her opponents under the cloak to disable them when they were least expecting it. She called it the Shadow Strike, a cool name that Shepard greatly approved of.

And Grunt was being, well. . . Grunt.

One of the Blue Suns Legionnaires standing in their path raised his assault rifle. "You!" he yelled at them. "This is all your fault! Stop right there, you. . ."

Grunt responded to that by shooting him in the face. "I'm tired of your disingenuous assertions!" he roared.

"What the hell. . . !?" his companion began.

"More disingenuous assertions!" Grunt bellowed, charging the unfortunate merc into a nearby wall. A sickening crunch signaled the permanent end of any 'assertions' from that side.

"Disingenuous assertions?" Garrus repeated from somewhere to Shepard's left, his sub-vocals humming with amusement. "What's that supposed to be?"

"Some kind of battle-cry," she shrugged, reloading her rifle.

"Battle cry, huh?" he snorted. "Looks like Lawson was right: you really are being a bad influence on him."

"You're actually _agreeing_ with Miranda?" Shepard asked, carefully taking aim at a nearby merc who was flailing around while having his face chewed off by a crazy inmate. "What's the galaxy coming to?"

"As someone who's worked with you for so long Shepard, there are times when I can sympathize with what Lawson's going through."

"Ha-ha," she said sardonically, before switching over to a private channel. "Seriously though, Grunt is doing pretty well; as is Kasumi. I can see why you recruited her."

"Yeah, she was always at the top of our list. Pity we couldn't get to her sooner."

"Yeah." Shepard absently scanned for more enemies. "So, are Kasumi and Zaeed it, or are there any more of your people you managed to sneak into this mission?"

" _Our_ people," he corrected her. There was a crack of his sniper rifle and another merc went down. "And yeah, those two are pretty much it for now. There's another guy who'll join us later."

"He any good?"

"Let's just say he's almost as good a sniper as I am." Another crack was followed by the sight of another merc's head exploding. "Almost."

"Cocky asshole," Shepard murmured, her mouth curving into a wry grin. She then switched back to their main channel. "Alright, team. Regroup. Mordin, any luck on tracking down Jack?"

"Affirmative," the salarian said, activating his omni-tool. "Currently halted in hangar bay. Appears to be looking for a escape."

"Alright, let's go say 'hello' to her then," Shepard said. "And everyone remember to keep your weapons at the ready. Something tells me this one won't be too happy to see us."

* * *

The group quickly ran through a large passageway where Mordin had claimed to have located Jack. They arrived just in time to see her facing off against two guards.

"Stop!"one of them cried out. In response, Jack gripped him with her biotics, lifted him up into the air and hurled him into the glass with enough force to make it crack. As he slumped to the ground, she turned to the other guard and began slamming him repeatedly into the floor before tossing his carcass aside like a toy. Then she looked around wildly for another target.

This corridor had a clear view of the area outside the station, where the Normandy was still docked. Jack took one look at the ship and her demeanor became, if possible, even more unstable. "Cerberus," she spat, the venom in her voice unmistakable.

With a roar of frustration, she started pacing back and forth, sputtering out cries of rage and clawing at the air like a wild animal. So distracted was she with throwing her little temper tantrum that she didn't see another merc sneaking up on her. At least not until Shepard dropped him with a neat shot through the head.

Hissing like an angry cat, she whirled around to face their group. "What the hell do you want?" she snarled.

"I just saved your ass," Shepard pointed out.

Jack sneered at her. "He was already dead. He just didn't know it. Now, what the hell do you want!?"

"My name is Shepard and I'm here to get you off this ship. Isn't that enough for now?"

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" the convict asked incredulously. "You're fucking Cerberus! Just why the fuck would I want to fucking go anywhere with you?"

"That's a lot of fucks," Grunt grumbled.

"Hey, watch the language!" Shepard snapped. "There're children here, y'know!"

Jack seemed taken aback slightly, but quickly recovered. "Whatever. You show up in a Cerberus frigate to take me away somewhere. You think I'm stupid!?"

"Gee, I dunno. Hey Garrus, what do you think? Is she stupid?" Shepard asked sardonically.

"Let's see," Garrus struck a mock-thoughtful pose. "This ship is going down in flames, we've got the only way out. We're offering to take her with us, and she's _arguing_." He looked back at the Commander. "Yup. Definitely stupid."

"Hey!" Jack took a threatening step forward. "You fuckers think you can talk like that. . !"

She stopped short as all seven of them raised their weapons simultaneously.

"I'm done playing games here," Shepard said seriously. "Now you can either come with us, or go down with this wreck. Your choice." The sound of a distant explosion rang through the air, reinforcing the severity of the situation.

Jack gnashed her teeth furiously, seemingly torn between her anger and her instinct for self-preservation. Fortunately the latter won out. "Fine," she conceded. "But if you want me to come with you, you're gonna make it worth my while."

The Commander lowered her weapon, the rest of the squad following suit. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I bet your ship's got lots of Cerberus databases," Jack licked her lips slightly. "You want me on your team? Let me look at those files. See what Cerberus has got on me."

For a couple of moments Shepard merely regarded the other woman coolly. Then she nodded. "I'll give you full access."

Even Jack seemed slightly surprised. "You better be straight up with me," she warned.

"I will," Shepard promised.

"So why the hell are we standing here?"

"Move out," Shepard ordered and led the way back to the airlock.

"Damn. Miranda's not going to like this," Jacob whispered quietly.

 _Oh Jacob, you have no idea_. . . Garrus thought to himself.

* * *

 **AN: There are 3 things you don't do around Commander Shepard:  
**

 **1) Ask her to dance 2) Invite her to drive the Mako 3) Make air-quotes (especially if you're a turian)**

 **Apparently the consequences can be pretty bad.  
**

 **Oh, and three guesses as to who the mysterious InfiltratorN7 is, though I'm sure most of you need only one. ;)**

 **Apologies if the chapter feels a little short, but a few new ideas forced me to rewrite this chapter several times over. I'll make up for it by posting the next one as soon as possible so you folks won't get bored.**

 **BTW, I'm curious to hear what you guys think of Harbinger's intro. I wanted to make it as dramatic as possible, since he's going to be the main antagonist for the rest of the story. And yes, unlike the games, Harbinger's strategy for dealing with Shepard will not be straightforward. His methods will evolve and continue to challenge the Commander in many ways. Keep reading to find out how.**

 **Next up: Shepard has a talk with some of her crew, while Tevos finds an unexpected ally. But all is not well as trouble is, quite literally, looming on the Horizon.  
**

 **Stay tuned :)**


	16. Conversations With The Crew

_**Salarian Embassy. Citadel.**_

As the electronic doors swished open, Henall Valern sat up straighter and regarded his guest curiously with large, bulbous eyes.

"Councilor," he nodded.

"Councilor," Tevos returned the greeting with a pleasant smile. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."

"Not at all," Valern said diplomatically. "Your message said you had something important to talk about?"

"Yes. The matter I wish to discuss with you is one of grave importance," she replied.

Valern took the hint immediately. In a smooth motion borne of years of habit, he typed a passcode into his omni-tool and passed it around the room. "There," he announced. "You may speak freely now."

Tevos took a moment to study the communications-disruptive field around them with frank interest. "That is quite an admirable security program you have there."

"Thank you. It's something I came up with on my own during my STG days," he smiled. "Now, to the matter at hand?"

Tevos sat up straighter and looked him right in the eye as she spoke, "I wanted to speak to you about our last meeting."

"Which part?"

"The part where you suddenly chose to side with Commander Shepard instead of playing your usual games."

Valern blinked in shock at the unexpected bluntness of the statement. For most asari who delighted in playing mind games and indulging in word-play, this kind of straightforward behavior was practically sacrilege. He himself couldn't recall another instance where Tevos had been so direct with him.

He looked more closely at the Matriarch's face. There was definitely a tired quality there, a pall of gloom settled over her usually tranquil and seemingly ageless features. She looked like someone who had had their entire world turned upside down in a very short span of time.

Valern decided to press for some more information. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

She stared at him for a full minute before speaking again. "Three years ago," she said slowly. "You were among the strongest, if not necessarily the most vocal opponent for humanity's inclusion into the Spectres."

"Yes," he admitted, wondering where she was going with this.

"Then after the Battle of the Citadel, you pressed to have Shepard sent out to the fringe systems to hunt for remaining geth forces."

"Your point being. . ?"

"Why change your position now?"

Valern said nothing for a few moments, merely studying her with a neutral expression. "You are aware, of course," he said slowly. "That contrary to common belief, the Citadel Council is not the absolute authority at making laws and treaties. We defer to the. . . suggestions from our home governments for most of the important decisions."

"That is true," Tevos agreed.

"Unfortunately, that is not equally applicable to all of us. The Thessian Republic and the Turian Hierarchy, while troublesome in their own way, do not have the power to issue an executive order to their Councilors without a justifiable reason." He sighed. "When it comes to the Salarian Union however, the matter is not so straightforward."

"Because of the clans," she murmured in understanding.

"Quite," he said. "A salarian's loyalty is always to the first circle of their clan, and then to the rest of the Union. And if the Dalatrass of your clan happens to be the predominant leader of your society. . ." He looked at her meaningfully.

The color seemed to drain out of Tevos' face. "Are you implying that the Dalatrass. . ?"

"I am implying nothing," he said flatly. "I'm not at a liberty to take any names, Councilor. But I can tell you this: in the last few years, certain members of the Union have been more persistent with their advice than usual."

Valern took a deep breath. "I confess, I'm not a fan of humanity as a whole, and I never will be. I still believe that they are much too young and brash to wield the power they possess on the galactic stage. But that does not mean I hold anything against them or any particular member of their race."

"The same, however, cannot be said of others."

"What do you mean?" Tevos asked sharply.

The salarian stroked his chin thoughtfully. "If there's one lesson I learned well during my STG days, it's that one must always learn to look at the bigger picture, while at the same time being mindful of all the pieces that make up the bigger picture. One must especially be mindful of those pieces, which for some reason, don't seem to fit."

"You're talking about the Reapers," she said softly.

"No," Valern retorted. "I'm talking about the pieces making up the big picture, and the questions they seem to raise."

"Such as?"

He fixed her with a piercing glare. "Why did the Prothean Beacon Shepard claimed to have found on Ilos stop working by the time the STG team got there? Why was Major Kirrahe's report on Virmire not taken into account to back up her claims? Why is it that our combined research teams have failed to divine anything useful from Sovereign's wreckage despite supposedly working on it for two whole years? Why was Commander Shepard's demise never fully investigated? Why is there no concrete evidence of the mysterious ship that attacked the SSV Normandy two years ago? Why is it our governments are so dead set against acknowledging the existence of these 'Reapers'?"

"Are you saying. . .?"

"I'm merely saying," he interrupted her. "That these are questions worth asking. Wouldn't you agree, Councilor?"

"I would," Tevos said slowly. She hesitated for a few moments, as though unsure about what to do next. Then she sighed and brought out an OSD from the folds of her dress, offering it to him.

"What is this?" Valern inquired, eyeing the data pad warily.

"Some more questions worth asking," she answered.

The salarian Councilor read through the data pad, his mind running a hundred miles a minute. Then he blinked and sighed heavily. "This is. . . extraordinary."

"The Temple of Athame," Valern murmured, more to himself than to his colleague. "In my younger days I often wondered what secrets the asari were guarding so jealously. It's not surprising that the STG found a way to infiltrate it."

"Only that it has taken so long," Tevos added.

"Exactly!" he nodded, pleased to see that she'd caught the point as he had. "The timing is what makes this all seem highly suspicious. By themselves, all these matters are mildly disturbing but put together. . ."

"They paint a highly alarming picture," she finished.

"Highly so," he agreed, sitting back in his chair. "I suppose this is why you asked for Vasir to join Shepard's team?" He fixed her with another piercing stare.

"Yes," she admitted. "Commander Shepard is in more danger than even she realizes. Not only is she waging war with an enemy capable of abducting entire colonies, but she's also at the center of a vast conspiracy involving not one, but two governments."

Valern had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to it than that, but he decided not to call her out on it. Whatever plans Tevos had for Shepard would become apparent enough, sooner or later.

"Three, if you include the Alliance," he said drily. "I have strong reasons to believe that there are many within her own government who seek to be rid of her."

At Tevos' enquiring glance, he shook his head. "Now is not the time for that. We have enough on our plate as it is." He wiped the OSD clean and threw it into the nearby the trash compactor. "I assume you are taking precautions?"

"I am," Tevos smiled. "But I will not allow danger to prevent me from doing what needs to be done."

"I would expect nothing else," Valern said, making no effort to hide the faint note of admiration in his voice. He had always believed that his colleague had more guts than most asari commandos he'd known. "But that is still no reason to deliberately put yourself in danger." He activated his omni-tool to send her a message.

Tevos blinked in surprise as her own omni-tool beeped. "What's this?"

"My STG access codes," he replied. "They have a fairly high level of clearance. You should be able to find what you need quite easily, though I would advise you to use it as little as possible."

She shot him a worried look. "If the STG discovers this. . ."

" _When_ , not _if_ ," he corrected her. "It's just a matter of time before the STG discovers what's going on, and when they do they'll trace it back to me."

"But Valern, this is dangerous. . !"

"Danger which I can handle," he said firmly. "I'm familiar with how the STG really works, and can prepare accordingly for when they come after me. You, on the other hand Councilor, are far more vulnerable."

"I. . . I understand," she said hesitatingly. "Thank you, Valern. I cannot repay you enough."

"Getting to the bottom of this mess would be repayment enough," he smiled. "Good luck, Councilor."

"Thank you," Tevos smiled back.

* * *

 _ **Present. Mess Hall. Normandy SR2.**_

"Oi Jenny! Mind if I take this spot?"

"Not at all, Kenneth," Goldstein replied. "I was finished anyway."

"Thanks," Ken grunted, setting his plate down.

Goldstein got up and stretched. "Time to get back to work then. Catch ya later, Gabby."

"See you, Jenny," Gabby smiled as her colleague walked away.

"So," Ken started, stuffing an egg roll into his mouth. "Out with it, girl."

"What?"

"The latest juicy bits on the Normandy's gossip-vine," he said impatiently.

"What makes you think we were gossiping?" Gabby asked innocently.

"Ach! Come off it! Every time you and Jenny get together, you're always whispering about something."

"Well, you can hardly blame me, can you?" she shrugged. "I'm so isolated down there in engineering, with nobody but a brain-dead grunt to talk to."

Ken cast a sideways look. "Not sure if I'd call Massani a brain-dead grunt."

"I was talking about you."

"Very funny, Gabby. Now, out with it. What's the latest news?"

"Well," Gabby said in a hushed whisper. "Rumor has it that there was a showdown between Miranda and our latest ground-team member."

"You mean the one with the excellent fashion sense?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, I mean the one who's also crazy biotic murderer who hates everyone in Cerberus and could probably crush you with a blink."

"Give the man break, woman," Ken groaned. "So, what happened between her and our fearless XO?"

"Well, Goldstein says they were shouting at each other in the QEC room. . ."

"What the hell was she doing near the QEC?" he interrupted her. "Isn't her station near the cockpit?"

"She was just passing by, apparently," Gabby said, rolling her eyes to show what she thought of that explanation. "But never mind that, you won't believe what happened!"

"What?"

"Apparently Miranda tried the usual routine on. . . what's her name? Jack, right? So yeah, Miranda tried the usual routine on Jack, establishing chain of command and all. And Jack, she just completely snubbed her!"

"She snubbed _Miranda_!?" Ken exclaimed in shock.

"Yup," Gabby said excitedly. "Acted like she didn't even care, just spoke directly to Shepard. Something about wanting her files. . . whatever the hell that means. But the best part was the nickname she gave to Miranda."

"Nickname?"

Gabby looked like she was struggling to hold back her laughter. "She actually called Miranda a 'Cerberus Cheerleader'," she crowed. "To her face! Can you believe that?"

"Damn," Ken said in amazement. "Just damn."

"I know, right! Imagine calling her that and just walking away! Jenny says Miranda was practically frothing at the mouth."

"That woman's got balls," he said admiringly, before making a face. "Not literally, I hope."

"You can never tell with all those tattoos," Gabby shrugged, snagging an egg roll off his plate.

The engineer shuddered slightly. "Thanks for putting that image in my head, Gabby."

"You're welcome," she replied, chewing the roll thoughtfully. "You know, Rupert is actually cooking some pretty good meals lately."

"Yeah, right," Ken snorted. "That scunner couldn't serve a good haggis if his life depended on it!"

"Meh," Gabby said. "All haggis tastes like ass anyway."

"Aye, but in right hands it can taste like mighty fine ass!"

As if cue, Hawthorne's garrulous tone drifted down the table. "Rupert, there's something different with tonight's meal. Seems like you put in more food and less ass."

"Is that right?" said a firm voice from right behind him, causing Hawthorne to jump so hard he spilled some of his food down his pants.

"Commander," the hapless crewman said, jumping to his feet as Commander Shepard strode purposefully towards the dining table.

"Crewman Hawthorne, right?" Shepard said, folding her arms and cocking her hip to the side. "Tell me crewman, what are your responsibilities on my ship?"

"Er. . . I'm in charge of monitoring Relay protocols near the CIC, ma'am," he answered nervously.

"Really?" Shepard said in mock-surprise. "That's pretty surprising, 'cause I could've sworn I've never actually seen you at your station on the CIC deck before."

"Er. . ."

"In fact," Shepard said loudly, taking a menacing step forward. "Until you just corrected me, I could've sworn that your official position on this ship was that of a Food Critic."

"Umm. . ."

"So what about it, crewman," she asked in a dangerous tone. " _Are_ you the official Food Critic for the Normandy?"

"No ma'am," Hawthorne squeaked.

"Mm-hmm," Shepard said, still fixing him with a predatory look. "Gardner," she barked suddenly, making everyone jump. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you handle the maintenance work along with cooking, right?"

"Aye-aye, ma'am," the Sergeant confirmed.

"Not any more. As of today, Crewman Hawthorne has _generously_ volunteered to take over your plumbing duties," she announced brightly. "Isn't that just so nice of him?"

"But. . . but. . ma'am. . ."

"What's that?" Shepard said even more loudly. "You want to get started right away? And you want to start cleaning the men's room with nothing but a toothbrush?"

"Ye-yes, ma'am," Hawthorne slumped his shoulders and conceded defeat. "Whatever you say, ma'am."

"Excellent! Well, don't let me stop you," she said with the same cheerful smile. "MARCH!" she barked, causing the crewman to jump once again and scurry away towards the bathrooms.

She waited a few moments until the crew resumed their eating, then turned and made towards the engineering duo.

"Ken, Gabby," she nodded.

"Commander," Gabby shot her a nervous smile. "You're. . um. . . in a pretty strict mood today."

"Oh that! Nah, that's nothing," Shepard said with a laugh. "My old XO always said that you should make sure knock your crew's heads around every once in a while. Keeps them from getting too complacent."

"Darn right, Commander," Ken said enthusiastically. "Some of these civilian scunners are much too soft. Wouldn't last a day in the Alliance, they wouldn't."

"Glad you approve," she said drily. "Say Gabby, I need a small favor."

"Anything, Commander," Gabby said eagerly.

"Do you have a spare top or two lying around?"

"A top?" she frowned. "I suppose I might have a couple of vests back in my trunk. But I doubt if they'd fit you, Commander," she added, looking the well-built marine up and down.

"They're not for me. They're for Jack," Shepard explained. "Her personal sense of fashion aside, I just don't like the idea of any of my squad roaming around with their modesty on full display."

"I don't mind," Ken said off-handedly. He blushed slightly under the combined glares of both women and went back to playing with his potatoes.

"I'll fetch one of mine," Gabby said. "I'm sure they'll be right her size, with the poor thing being as thin as she is."

"Thanks. I'll accompany you downstairs. I have a feeling she's not going to be very thrilled about this."

* * *

Jack let out a loud burp as she polished off her second plate of food. Say what you would about these sick fucks, they sure knew how to cook a good meal.

Carelessly dropping the tray at her feet, she picked up a third and began to ravenously attack an egg roll. Coming out from cryo always made a person feel extremely hungry. In her case the symptoms were usually worse, since a biotic of her level needed a lot more sustenance than most people.

She took a moment to run her eye appreciatively around her newest hidey-hole. There really couldn't be a better spot on this ship for someone like her: narrow, dark, quiet. This place was probably the safest she could hope to feel on a fucking Cerberus ship; the metallic floor and stairs meant she'd be able to hear someone coming a mile away.

Almost as if in response to her thoughts, the sound shuffling footsteps reached her keen ears. Jack went still, right hand automatically twitching towards the pistol stuffed into the back of her waistband; long habit caused her ears to prick up in an effort to deduce as much information about her visitors before they came into view. She relaxed slightly when she saw it was only Shepard (or 'girl-scout' as Jack liked to think of her) and a rather nervous-looking crew member.

"Wassup?" Jack mumbled, a little bit of vegetable stew dribbling out of her mouth.

"Jack," Shepard said with a professional nod, ignoring her less-than-respectful manner. "How're you doing?"

"Not bad," the convict answered honestly. "You got some good grub on this ship."

"Yeah, well. . . you can thank Garrus for that." She looked around the cramped place. "You know, we could get you a better place than this."

Jack resisted the urge to sneer. Looks like she'd overestimated this one back on Purgatory. The girl-scout obviously wasn't good at playing this game. "I'm fine, sister. Thanks," she replied patronizingly. "About the info. . ."

"Miranda's compiling it as we speak." Ignoring the other woman's derisive snort, Shepard continued, "I brought you some clothes to wear. Figured it'd be cold roaming around like that."

It was true that Jack was feeling rather cold, but she wasn't about to admit it. Her life had conditioned her to take even the most generous offers of help with a grain of salt. "Why, you don't like what you see?" she snarked.

"The tattoos _are_ pretty nice," Shepard agreed. "But I doubt our enemies will be too busy admiring them to shoot at you."

"We can arrange to have you fitted out with something more durable when we stop over for supplies. Until then. . ." She gestured at the girl, who approached the convict with slight hesitation.

Jack felt her hackles rise at the sight of the Cerberus symbol on the crewman's uniform. "I don't want it," she spat angrily.

"It's just a T-shirt."

"I said. . ." she began, rising to her feet.

"My ship, my rules," Shepard said firmly.

Jack was about to tell her exactly where she could stick her rules when a wicked thought occurred to her. "Alright then," she smirked. "Have it your way."

As the girl came closer, Jack stretched out her hand as if to take the offered top. Then without warning, she gave a flick of her wrist and encased the crewman in a small biotic field.

The girl shrieked and jumped backwards. Jack felt a small thrill of enjoyment at the undisguised terror on her eyes as she was lifted nearly a foot above the ground.

Unfortunately, that did not last for long.

Before Jack could so much as blink, her left hand was pulled backwards with enough force to nearly dislocate her shoulder. Simultaneously, her legs were kicked out from under her and a hand came up to grab her head, slamming it viciously into the cold metal floor.

She snarled and bucked ferociously as a knee came up the rest on the small of her back, making it virtually impossible for her to get up again. She was about to unleash her biotics when she felt a cold barrel being pressed against her neck, the sound of a charging pistol ringing in her ears.

Her own pistol.

 _How the fuck did she. . !?_

"Release her," Shepard whispered dangerously. "Now!"

Under no illusions of what would happen if she were to refuse, Jack immediately obeyed. There was a thump as the crewman's feet hit the floor again.

"Gabby, you alright?"

"I'm. . . I'm okay, Commander. . ."

"Good," Shepard said, and took her knee off of the pinned woman.

With a roar of rage Jack jumped to her feet, anger completing clouding over reason. Drawing her fist back in a swirl of biotic energy, she leapt forward, ready to pulverize the bitch's head to pieces.

Big mistake.

Shepard's punch caught her squarely in the solar-plexus, the momentum of her own attack knocking the wind out of her lungs. Then, with surprising strength for a woman of that size, the Commander lifted her into the air and smashed her into the opposite wall.

Jack struggled to blink the stars out of her eyes as the back of her head collided painfully with the metal wall. She grit her teeth as the redhead's forearm was roughly thrust against her windpipe, suffocating her, and was about to call upon her biotics once again when she felt the tip of the pistol grind into her forehead.

"Here's a question for you," Shepard said. "Which is faster: your neural implants, or the bullet from this gun tearing through your skull?"

It was the tone of her voice, rather than the words themselves, that caused Jack's survival instincts to kick in. There was no anger or any kind of arrogance in Shepard's voice at all. It was flat, emotionless. . . as though she were merely stating a fact rather than making a threat.

For the first time since she'd boarded the ship, Jack took a really good look at Commander Shepard.

She saw the faint glowing scars on her face, the determined set of her jaw. But it was the eyes that really got to her. The usually expressive green eyes were blank now; cold, serious. . . and Jack could almost see a faint red glow within the irises; a hint of the barely restrained strength within.

She had seen those eyes once before, back during one of her earliest raids as a pirate. She had been young back then: brash, cocky. . . so convinced of her raw power that she was confident that there was no one in the galaxy she couldn't defeat. She'd actually been stupid enough to challenge an asari Eclipse captain to a one on one match over some loot. The Captain had merely shaken her head, muttering about 'kids' and 'respect' and then proceeded to beat her to within an inch of her life, without even using her own biotics. It took days for Jack to recover from that beat-down.

It was then that Jack finally admitted to herself that she'd been completely wrong about Shepard. Forget playing the same game, the two of them weren't even in the same league.

The red-headed bitch was no girls-scout. Oh no, she was strong. Really strong. Hell, she was one of the few out there who Jack was absolutely certain she would lose against. Sure, Jack could raise hell and cause some serious damage to the ship if she decided to cut loose. But there was no way she could take out Shepard without getting killed herself; and death wasn't something she was particularly anxious for.

"Alright," she choked out. "You've. . . made your point. . ."

Shepard continued to stare at her for a few moments and then suddenly let go. The convict doubled up on the floor, coughing and wheezing for a minute before shakily getting to her feet. At a gesture from the red-head, she moved forward and snatched the vest from the trembling crewman's hands, pulling it over head. "Satisfied?" she growled.

"For now," Shepard agreed. "Gabby, could you return to your station?"

The girl seemed only too happy to comply, quickly scampering up the stairs. Shepard waited until the door to the engineering room closed before turning back to the convict.

"So what now?" Jack asked, glancing warily at the pistol in the Commander's hand. She did not like the idea of standing in such close-quarters with an armed opponent.

"Now, we talk," Shepard said, tucking the gun into her waistband, much to Jack's relief.

"Yeah? About what?"

"Your goddamn attitude." The Commander took a step forward, and Jack had to fight the instinct to back away. It was amazing how dangerous the woman seemed even without a weapon in hand.

"You hate Cerberus, and everything to do with them. I understand that, even if I don't know why. But if you think that means I'm going to let you mess around with my crew," she narrowed her eyes, "you've got another thing coming."

"You don't know what they're like. . ." Jack began hotly.

"My best friend is the right hand man of the Shadow Broker himself," Shepard retorted. "I think it's safe to say that I know more about them than you do."

"Then why do you care!? They're Cerberus!"

"They're my crew," she repeated firmly. " _My_ crew. And let me tell you right now, just because they wear Cerberus' symbol on their uniforms doesn't mean they drink their Kool-Aid."

"That girl you just attacked, she's from the Alliance, as is half of the operating crew. The rest of them are colonists who volunteered for a goddamn suicide mission just to keep their homes and their families safe. The pilot of this ship was under my command in the Battle of the Citadel and is one of the bravest men I've ever known. Our Chief Medical Officer is a legend within Alliance ranks, and has seen worse shit on the field than you and I put together." Her nostrils flared slightly in anger. "Don't insult them or their integrity by lumping them together with the likes of Cerberus!"

For a few minutes both women merely glared at each other in silence. Then Jack looked away. "What hell do you want from me, Shepard?"

"I want you to make up your damn mind on whether you're going to stick with us or not," Shepard said quietly. "There can be no 'maybes' or half-heartedness on a mission like this one. The stakes are simply too high. Either you're all in or you're out."

"And if I say no?" Jack said belligerently.

"Then I'll drop you off at the next inhabited planet we come across with a few thousand credits," she shrugged. "Go anywhere you want and do whatever you like. You won't be _my_ problem anymore."

"What about the info you promised me?"

"I'll probably still give it to you, if only to stick to the Illusive Asshole," she conceded after a moment's thought.

Jack raised her eyebrows. "Just like that? No strings?"

"I don't do 'strings'. So what'll it be?"

The convict bit her lip for a few moments. While she was sorely tempted to grab her data and credits and then flip them all off, a part of her couldn't help but want to stay. She liked to think it was because of the free food, but inside her heart she knew better. It was sheer, morbid curiosity: a desire to see what this woman was capable of, _really_ capable of, that drove her to consider the alternative.

She licked her lips. "I get to kill people, right?"

Shepard merely raised an eyebrow. "I didn't exactly bring you in to help me with the paperwork, did I?"

Jack found herself smirking at that. "You're on, boss lady! I'll do whatever you want, but only _after_ I get my info."

"I'd best get to it, then," Shepard said, casually tossing her pistol back to her. "See ya."

"Wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Noticed you don't seem to like Cerberus much either," Jack said shrewdly. "What'd they do to piss _you_ off?"

"Lots of things," Shepard grimaced. "But for starters, they fed a few friends of mine to a Thresher Maw. For science, apparently."

"What!? Then why the fuck are you working with them?" Jack demanded in astonishment.

"Because," Shepard fixed her with a serious look. "There're things out there that are far worse than Cerberus could ever hope to be."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

For some reason, that casual statement sent a chill down even the hardened convict's spine.

* * *

"Miranda, you got a minute?"

"Of course, Commander," the Normandy XO said, casually surveying her with those ice-cold orbs. "I assume your conversation with Jack went well."

Shepard quirked an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"EDI informed me of a disturbance in the storage deck below engineering," Miranda explained.

"Surprised you didn't rush down there guns blazing."

"Please, Commander. Someone like Jack is hardly a match to someone with your skill. I wouldn't have let her on this ship if I didn't think you could handle her."

"Umm. . . thanks, I guess."

"I was merely stating a fact," she shrugged.

Shepard reached out to pick up one of the datapads lying on her desk. "Is this Jack's info?"

"Everything that Cerberus has on her," Miranda confirmed. "At least, everything I'm cleared to access."

"Thanks. This'll go a long way in earning her trust," Shepard said gratefully. "Though I must say, I'm surprised you agreed to this so easily."

"There was no point in being stubborn. You would have simply gotten the data through other channels if I'd refused," Miranda said. "However, I will admit to being curious as to why you're going so far to accommodate a single woman. Especially someone like _her_!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Shepard shook her head. "You weren't there, Miranda. You didn't see what she's capable of. We're gonna need that kind of firepower when we go up against the Collectors."

"Perhaps you're right," Miranda admitted begrudgingly. "But that doesn't mean you have to pander to every one of her whims."

"Yeah, well. . . I don't mind doing something for my crew every now and then," Shepard shrugged and took a seat opposite to her. "Still, I get the feeling that it's not Jack's attitude that's bothering you."

"If I let childish insults get under my skin, I'd never get anything done," the brunette sniffed haughtily.

Shepard fixed her with a penetrating stare. "This is about Cerberus, isn't it?"

"Naturally. That woman's accusations about Cerberus are baseless and foolish to the extreme!" Miranda jumped to her feet and started pacing around her office. "We may have committed questionable acts in the past, but there are lines even _we_ would not cross."

"Cerberus obviously has your loyalty. How did you get involved with them?"

For a moment she merely regarded the Commander with a cool stare. Then she sighed. "I suppose you've earned the right to know. Do you remember when I told you how I was genetically altered?"

"Well, that wasn't my choice. My father. . . created me."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Created?"

"He's a very influential man and extremely controlling," she explained. "He didn't want a daughter, he wanted a dynasty. I ran away as soon as I was old and brave enough. I went to Cerberus because I knew they could protect me."

"How bad did it go?"

"Shots were fired," Miranda admitted.

"Wow." Shepard grimaced. "Still, you're pretty capable of defending yourself. Why did you need Cerberus?"

"My father invested a great deal in his dynasty. It wasn't a matter of just leaving. I knew he would continue to pursue his... investments."

"Do you know what's really ironic though? I first heard about Cerberus through my father's connections. He's a great believer in a human-first agenda, and donated extensively to Cerberus before I joined them." She gave a small self-deprecating laugh. "I wonder how he feels about that now."

"I assume that Cerberus approves of your enhanced abilities?"

"Of course," Miranda confirmed. "Cerberus fully endorses anything that advances the cause of humanity, genetic alterations included. But unlike my father and his own selfish reasons, Cerberus and the Illusive Man believe in a greater good. They see the bigger picture. . . and I feel like I have a purpose here."

If she expected the Commander to be impressed by that, she was greatly disappointed. "You talk about yourself like you're an asset. . . or a tool. Something that your father or Cerberus can use. A means to an end."

"Maybe," she admitted. "I like to know where I fit in the galaxy. It helps me find meaning in how I was created."

"You are who you are, Miranda. You don't need to word it as if you're making excuses or anything."

"That's easy for you to say," Miranda replied, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "We've both been engineered for greatness, Shepard. The difference is you were great before we rebuilt you. . I'm great because of it."

But Shepard simply shook her head. "It wasn't your superior genes that brought me back from the dead," she said quietly. "It was your hard work and sheer determination that did the impossible. Don't think I don't know how much effort you put into bringing me back." She gave the other woman a small smile. "I might not show it much, but I do appreciate everything you've done for me."

Had this come from anyone else, Miranda would have dismissed it as a crude attempt at flattery. But she'd worked with Shepard long enough to know how sincere the woman really was. "Yes, well," she cleared her throat. "Thank you. You weren't exactly the easiest person to work on, but I suppose. . ."

Suddenly, EDI's voice chimed in through the speakers. "Commander, the Illusive Man wishes to speak with you."

"Great," Shepard groaned. "What does he want?"

"That's strange," Miranda frowned. "He usually routes all mission-related information through me. He wouldn't be calling directly unless it's something urgent. . ."

The two women looked at each other and understanding dawned on them simultaneously. "The Collectors," they both said in unison.

* * *

 **AN: So, pretty serious chapter this time. Not only do we have Valern showing just how deep the rabbit hole goes, but we also see a serious side to Shepard as she works to forge better relationships with her teammates.  
**

 **Regarding the conversation with Jack, I must say that I haven't seen many ME fanfics which show FemShep and Jack having a showdown. Hence my decision to write this scene a bit differently. Also, it might just be me, but the paragon dialogue for dealing with Jack does tend to sound a bit lame. A Commanding Officer like Shepard isn't going to stand around and listen to one of her subordinates spouting shit. It simply isn't in their nature to tolerate stuff like that, not to mention that someone like Jack will respect strength a lot more than moral lectures (like a certain krogan we all know).**

 **Next up: Things are about to get more heated as our heroes prepare for what will be their most difficult battle yet. Will Commander Shepard be able to stand against the might of Harbinger?**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)  
**


	17. The One They Fear - I

_**Present. Horizon.**_

"You wanted to see me, Chief?"

"Hey Lilith! Gimme a sec."

Ashley Williams jumped down from the service ladder beside the GARDIAN turret, wiping her sweaty face with one hand.

"Did you even get any sleep last night, Chief? You look exhausted."

"Meh. I got the hours I needed," Ashley rolled her neck. "It's just that working these guns isn't exactly a walk in the park for me. I'm a marine, not a grease monkey."

"Still can't calibrate the targeting matrix?" Lilith asked sympathetically.

"Yeah. And those defense towers are pretty much useless if we don't figure it out. I was hoping you could lend me a couple of your grunts."

"I'm sorry, Chief. I wish I could help you, but getting our comm systems back online takes priority."

"Yeah. Comm systems, gotcha." Ashley exhaled softly. "Surprised people haven't tried to blame that one on me, too."

"People out here don't trust the Alliance, Chief," Lilith said bracingly. "It's nothing personal."

"Yeah, I know. I've had enough colony postings to know how people are. But it's hard to not take it personally no one here will even look me in the eye, except for you."

She sighed heavily. "God! I wish I knew who I'd pissed off so badly at HQ to end up here."

"I've wondered that myself. Oh no, I didn't mean it way," Lilith added hastily at an enquiring glance from the other woman. "It's just that you seem to be more of a fighter than an engineer."

"Yeah, well. . . you're kinda right. The only experience I've had with guns is armory maintenance. But someone like me doesn't have the luxury of questioning orders."

"Why not?" Lilith was puzzled. "Aren't you a hero of the Battle of the Citadel?"

"Well, yeah. I suppose I am. But that doesn't mean much anymore," Ashley shrugged. "Not since the Normandy went down two years ago."

"You were actually _on_ the Normandy? With Commander Shepard?" Lilith asked in surprise.

"Yup. Fought right at her side until the end," she replied proudly. "Hell of a fighter Shepard was. Hell of a leader too. You know, when the Normandy went down, she evacuated all personnel first and then went back for our pilot. Went down with the ship, she did." Her eyes misted over slightly. "Best CO I've ever had the honor of serving with."

"Did she though? Go down with the ship, I mean?"

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" Ashley narrowed her eyes.

Lilith squirmed slightly. "Well, it's just rumors I've heard. From some of the traders coming in from the Terminus systems."

"What rumors?"

"They say that she's still alive. Commander Shepard, I mean."

"What!?"

"We've got this one guy who brings in spare parts from Omega," Lilith explained. "Nothing illegal, you understand. He said. . . well. . . he said he actually saw her there. Commander Shepard. He saw her on Omega, walking around with a bunch of guys."

"Of course he did," Ashley groaned. "Look Lilith, ever since the Normandy went down two years ago, there have been a hundred or so 'sightings' of Shepard. Some say she's infiltrating the Batarian Hegemony, some say she's hanging around a beach on Thessia. . . there was even this group of hanar who claimed that she'd become one with the enkindlers, whatever the hell that means. I wouldn't pay much attention to it."

But Lilith shook her head. "This isn't one of those wild stories, Chief. Jake isn't the kind of man to make up some fancy tales, and he's got a very keen eye. He claims he actually saw her fighting some mercs on Omega. And the strangest part: she departed on a ship that looked exactly like her old one."

"Oh, now you're just having me on," Ashley laughed. " _Another_ Normandy? The original was a one-of-a-kind ship that took the Alliance billions of credits to make. I doubt they'd fund another one. And look at it this way: if Shepard really did survive, why hasn't she contacted the Alliance by now? Her entire family is in the navy, and let me tell you. . ."

She broke off as something in the sky caught her eye. "Hey Lilith, we got any transport ships coming in this morning?"

"Um. . . no?"

"Then what the _hell_ is that!?" Ashley exclaimed, drawing her assault rifle.

Lilith gasped as she finally took notice of the giant silhouette in the sky. Bolts of energy seemed to crackle around it like lightning as the gigantic vessel slowly became more visible.

Ashley scanned the sky with the scope of her rifle. "Get everyone into the safehouse," she ordered.

"I. . . oh my god! What is that?"

In the distance a large dark cloud steadily grew larger, hovering a few feet above the ground and moving much faster than the ship. It was headed right towards the colony.

"Go Lilith! I'll cover you! Run!"

She started firing wildly into the distance as the girl took off towards the colony. Ashley kept up a continuous barrage of gunfire until the dark cloud got closer, and her face paled when she finally got a good look at the cloud.

Insects! Fucking insects!

But they weren't ordinary insects. Oh no, something was very wrong with them. Even as Ashley slowly backed away, she couldn't help but feel that these things were a prelude to something much worse.

She turned and ran down the hill, firing blindly behind her back. But despite her best efforts, a few of the bugs got close enough to sting her on the back of the neck.

Immediately Ashley felt her entire body go numb. The rifle slipped out of her slackened grasp, her arms fell to her side and her legs gave out from under her. But her momentum continued to carry her down the hill.

Ironically, it was this that saved her life.

With a crash Ashley hit the ground head first. The impact jarred her head and her limp body flopped down the hill, rolling steadily until she came to rest under the shadow of a nearby housing unit.

Ashley Williams lay there alone, unable to move so much as a muscle. She tried her hardest to block out the screams of horror from the nearby colonists, tried her best not to think about what horrible fate awaited the; she tried not to think about how, after everything she'd survived, she was going to meet her end like this: alone, helpless, unable to fight back. She valiantly hoped that Lilith had managed to escaped and prayed fervently for some kind of help, for some kind of miracle to save them all.

Unknown to her, Ashley's prayers were about to be answered.

* * *

 _ **QEC Room. Normandy SR2.**_

"Commander, we've just entered the Iera System," Joker announced. "ETA to Horizon is ten minutes."

Commander Jane Shepard stopped her relentless pacing and looked up for a moment. "Roger that, Joker. Stay in Stealth Mode. Let me know when we're within orbital range."

"Aye, aye."

Letting out a small frustrated sigh she resumed her pacing, mumbling under her breath.

"You know, Shepard," Garrus said slowly from his corner. "You're going to wear out the floor if you keep that up."

"Yeah, cause that's my biggest concern right now," she replied, throwing him a dirty look.

"Shepard, relax! Ashley will be fine. . ."

But the commander shook her head. "You weren't there on Freedom's Progress, Garrus. You didn't see what the colony looked like when those fucking Collectors were done with the place!" She exhaled softly. "An entire colony taken out like it was nothing. Almost two hundred thousand people just. . . gone. They didn't even have the time to put up a fight!"

She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. "Dammit, how the hell did the Broker's network _not_ pick up on Ash being on that colony?"

That was the exact question which Garrus had been asking himself since the last two hours. For the life of him he couldn't understand how it was possible that Ashley Williams of all people would end up on Horizon; and that too, in the exact same situation Alenko had been in the previous timeline.

For the first time in a long while, Garrus was well and truly stumped. He simply did not have a contingency in place todeal with this kind of scenario. Oh sure, he had anticipated that Horizon would be one of the colonies on the Collectors' hit list, but with Kaidan Alenko safely tucked away in Alliance HQ he had been certain that there was no danger to any of their friends. After all, in the last timeline Alenko had been on Horizon at the behest of Anderson (who wanted to test Shepard's loyalty) and Liara had taken care of that this time by choosing to reach out to Hackett directly.

But it still wasn't enough. Somehow Ashley had ended up getting transferred to Horizon, and her association with Shepard had once again attracted the Collectors' attention and driven them towards the colony.

 _What was that human saying? The more things change, the more they stay the same. . . ._

This situation drove home a point that Garrus had long since anticipated, but was still reluctant to admit: his knowledge of the future was steadily becoming more useless. The galaxy was beginning to exhibit clear signs of all the changes he'd made since he'd come back in time, and while he understood this on an intellectual level, he was still rather ill-prepared to deal with it.

The reason for that was simple: complacence. Simply put, he had become a cocky asshole. Smug, self-assured, so convinced that he knew what was going to happen that he had completely forgotten how to run an operation by relying on his gut instinct. All the success so far had gotten to his head, and he allowed himself to let his guard down. Just like on Omega.

 _And now Ashley's going to pray the price for it, like Butler and the gang did back then. . ._

He shook his head roughly. No, now was not the time for a pity party. He could beat himself up later. First he had to rescue an old friend.

Garrus started slightly when he realized that Shepard was still talking.

"She's got sisters, Garrus. Four younger sisters! How the hell will we face them if she. . ."

"She'll be fine," he repeated firmly. "Shepard, this is Ashley Williams we're talking about. She's as tough as they come. Hell, she survived Eden Prime! You honestly think a bunch of insects can get the better of her?"

Shepard gave him a small smile. "You're right. Ashley's a lot tougher than I'm giving her credit for. It's just. . . she's one of us, y'know? The original Normandy ground squad. And she was there with me when the SR1 went down. I just. . ." She sighed and shrugged helplessly.

"Relax, Jane," Garrus laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're Commander-fucking-Shepard, scourge of the Reapers. I bet the Collectors will pack up and haul out of there once you step out on the field."

She grinned back at him and her eyes softened slightly. "You know, that's the first time you called me that."

"Called you what?"

"My first name. "Usually it's always 'Commander' or 'Shepard', but just now you called me 'Jane'."

"Yes. . . well. . ." he gave slightly embarrassed cough. "You did ask me to call you that when we're alone, and we haven't exactly had a lot of that lately."

"I know, right? It's always one mission after another! I swear, the next time we get shore leave we should go out somewhere, just the two of us." She blushed slightly. "I mean, if you want to."

Garrus couldn't help but smirk at that. "Oh my. Are you asking me out on a _date_ , Commander?"

"God, why do you always have to make things weird?" Shepard groaned.

"I didn't hear an answer."

"Tell me, Vakarian: were you born a smug asshole, or did you just grow into one?"

"Well," he drawled thoughtfully. "Depends on who you're asking. My sister would say the former, my dad would the latter."

The two of them laughed shared a laugh before EDI's voice brought them back the reality. "Commander, we've just entered Horizon's orbit."

"Roger that, EDI. Send out a recon probe on the double."

"Acknowledged." There a brief pause, and the deck shook minutely. "Probe launched. Impact in fifteen seconds."

"I want the visual feed up here, and audio if you can manage it," Shepard ordered. She turned around as Miranda, Jacob and Zaeed walked in, arching a questioning eyebrow at her XO. "Well?"

"Dr Solus has the counter-measure for the seeker swarms ready," she reported. "He's in the shuttle bay right now, patching up Jack and Kasumi's suits."

Shepard nodded approvingly. "Tell him to wait there with Grunt and those two. I assume you've had your suits upgraded."

"Your armor is the only one left, Commander."

"He can do mine on the shuttle ride." The central console flashed and the group watched as a hologram fired up.

"So that's Horizon," Zaeed grunted. "Never been here before, and I've been almost everywhere."

"What the heck is that?" Jacob asked, pointing at a large structure in the middle of the colony.

"EDI?" Shepard prompted.

"It appears to be cruiser-class vessel landed in a field two miles away from the colony. There are signs of movement around the vessel, indicating a number of active life forms."

"The Collectors," Garrus said softly.

"Get outta here," Jacob mumbled in disbelief. "A vessel of that size shouldn't be able to land on the colony!"

"Sovereign did," Shepard reminded him. "The Reapers have mass effect fields powerful enough to let them land on and take off from the surface of planets. If we needed any more proof that the Collectors are working for them, this is it."

"That ship's gonna be a problem," Zaeed pointed out.

"Agreed. Garrus, is there any way we can take it out?"

"I've calibrated our weapon systems to their maximum power. As long as Joker can get us close enough, our Javelins can take them out. However," he raised a talon to emphasize his point. "The fallout from a ship of that size exploding on the planet's surface will be. . . pretty bad."

"Bad? It'll be catastrophic," Miranda snorted. "An exploding mass effect core of that size will take out half the planet!"

"And all the colonists with it," Shepard sighed. "Alright, is there any way we could simply disable the ship? Or even drive them off?"

"Using the Normandy, no. But perhaps there might be another way." Miranda scanned through one of the mission data pads lying on the table. "It says here that Alliance Operations Chief Williams was sent to install GARDIAN laser turrets. EDI, could you highlight their position?"

"One moment." The hologram blinked once a single spot glowed bright gold. "GARDIAN turrets located."

"Why are they not firing?"

"Message logs from technical teams indicate that the targeting matrix is need of some calibration, Operative Lawson," the AI explained. "It should be relatively easy for us to finish it if I were allowed to interface with its central console."

"Can't you do it from here?"

"No, I am afraid you will have to establish connection manually. The console will be also have to be defended from any of the collectors' attempts at overriding my connection."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Shepard murmured in appreciation. "EDI, plot a course from our LZ to the turrets' central controls."

A thin golden line zig-zagged across the colony, coming to a halt right at the center of a housing complex.

"That's not good," Zaeed shook his head. "Area's a godddamn deathtrap. Out in the open, minimal cover, all four sides exposed. . . the Collectors'll slaughter us before we can get the guns up."

"Not if we be sneaky about it." Shepard leaned across the table. "I think it's safe to say that the Collectors are luring us into a trap here, using one of my old friends to draw my attention. Everyone agreed?"

At their nods, she continued. "Well, I say we use their plan against them. We'll split up into two teams: Team Alpha, led by me, will draw away as many of those bastards from the turret controls. Miranda, you'll sneak in there with Team Bravo while we've got their attention and get those guns up and running as far as possible. Take Kasumi, Mordin and Jacob with you."

"Remember, move quickly and quietly. The rest of us will do the best we can to draw the heat away from you."

"Understood, Commander," Miranda said.

"That's gonna be a lot of heat." Zaeed rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Ship that size. . . there must be hundreds of those critters down there."

"What's this? You chickening out on us, old man?" Garrus smirked.

"Not on your scaly hide, mate," Zaeed grinned. "I was just thinkin' that it was time to bring out the big guns."

A feral grin spread across Commander Shepard's face at the reminder of all those wonderful new toys waiting for her back in the armory.

* * *

Less an hour later, the two teams touched down on the colony.

"Team Bravo is groundside," Miranda's voice came over the comms. "I repeat: Team Bravo is on the ground. Team Alpha, do you copy?"

"Roger that, Team Bravo," Shepard replied. "We're proceeding into the colony. Stay hidden and wait for my signal before moving out."

"Acknowledged."

"Hey Boss Lady! Those bugs are getting awfully close," Jack gestured at the large cloud of seekers getting closer.

"I see it. Everyone stay close. Mordin, you're sure these armor upgrades will protect us from the seeker swarms?"

"Certainty impossible," the salarian answered. "But in limited numbers, should confuse detection, make us invisible to swarms. In theory."

"In theory?" Jack repeated dumbly. "The fuck is that supposed to mean!?"

"Experimental technology. Only test is contact with seeker swarms. Hence initial test with seeker on Normandy. Have to test them in person to know for sure," Mordin replied cheerfully. "If successful, seeker swarms will ignore us. If unsuccessful, will be paralyzed. And subsequently captured. Should be exciting. Look forward to seeing if we survive."

"And people call _me_ crazy," the convict mumbled under her breath.

"Dammit, Mordin! I'm being serious here! I need to know. . . Mordin. . . can you hear me?"

"Commander. . . . interference. . ."

"Miranda? Mordin? Shit!" Shepard swore. "I can't contact them or the Normandy."

"It must be the seeker swarm disrupting communications," Garrus suggested. "The more of them there are, the greater the interference."

"At least our short-range comms are working," Zaeed said.

"Yeah. Guess we're on our own now," Shepard sighed. "Alright team, let's do our jobs well so Miranda's team can do theirs."

"You mean let's get our asses shot full holes so the Cheerleader doesn't chip a nail?" Jack snarked.

Shepard let that one go. "Garrus, use your cloak and scout out ahead. Zaeed, bring up the rear. Grunt, Jack – you're with me. Let's go!"

They moved ahead a few meters, carefully scanning their surroundings. The near-absolute silence in the surroundings made Shepard's hair stand on end. Ignoring the steadily growing pit of trepidation in her stomach, the Commander led her team until Garrus' voice brought her to a halt.

"Seven hostiles sighted. Three at your twelve, and four more at ten o clock."

"Finally," Grunt rumbled.

Zaeed scanned the area with his sniper rifle. "I got 'em," he confirmed.

Shepard drew her assault rifle. "Take the shot. Grunt, get ready. Jack, wait for my signal."

A second later Zaeed fired, followed by a loud report from where Garrus was standing. Shepard jumped out of her cover as the remaining Collectors drew their weapons.

Resisting the urge to recoil at the hideous insect-like visage of her enemies, Commander Shepard sighted down her M-96 Mattock and fired. "Jack, scatter those fuckers! Grunt, charge!"

With a yell the convict sent out a massive shockwave, sending the four remaining Collectors into the air. Grunt was upon them in the blink of an eye, crushing one drone's head under his large boots and blasting at the others with his shotgun.

But the fight was far from over.

"Shepard! Reinforcements coming in from your nine," Garrus called out.

The Commander ducked out of cover to assess the situation. She was able to make out at least half a dozen more drones heading their way, followed by. . .

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," she whispered in horror.

But there was no question about it. Even from this distance there was no mistaking the shambling gait, the glowing blue cybernetics embedded into their flesh, that hoarse moaning-noise that chilled her to the very bone. . .

Husks.

In a matter of seconds, the horde was upon them. Between dodging the Collectors' fire and trying to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the husks, the team had their hands full. Then Jack went down with a cry of pain.

Shepard cursed under her breath as she watched the convict wrestle with one of those abominations. She knew from bitter experience just how strong those things really were. "Grunt, cover me!"

She ran across the battlefield, holstering her Mattock and simultaneously drawing her Tempest. Quickly taking out two of the nearest husks, she jumped in the air and rammed her boot straight into the neck of the creature attacking Jack, her momentum knocking his head clean off his shoulders.

"You okay?" she asked, pulling the other woman to her feet.

"Yeah," Jack muttered, shaking her head slightly.

"Commander, there's more of those zombies coming in!" Zaeed warned.

Sure enough, there were a good two dozen husks making their way towards them. But their proximity to each other gave the Commander an idea.

"Time to bring out the big guns," she muttered to herself and then drew the M-622 Avalanche from her back.

"What the hell is that?" Jack eyed the weapon warily.

"Our ace in the hole," Shepard smirked. "Hey Garrus! Funnel those bastards for me, would you?"

As predicted, the burst of fire from Garrus' assault rifle drew the husks together. Without skipping a beat, Shepard lifted the heavy weapon and fired.

The moment the slug hit the gang of husks, it began to crystallize. In less than a minute all the despicable creatures were frozen on the spot.

"Knock 'em out, Grunt."

With a cheerful bellow the krogan charged forward, crushing their foes into tiny pieces. Shepard breathed a sigh of relief as Zaeed dispatched the last of the collector drones.

"Fuck. That was some cool shit," Jack muttered in awe.

"Yeah. Gotta thank Miranda for this one," the Commander replied, smiling slightly at the look of consternation on the biotic's face.

"Whatever. By the way, I owe ya for that one back there."

But Shepard merely shook her head. "You're part of my team, Jack. That means it's my job to look out for you on the field. You don't owe me anything."

"Pfft. Yeah, whatever." She sullenly kicked at an ice fragment near her feet. "That was an accident anyway. I wouldn't have gone down like that if knew those fuckers could still move without their legs."

Shepard noted the way Jack's voice quivered slightly. She supposed even the most hardened and violent criminal would be taken by surprise by something like the husks. "The first time I fought one of those things, I had nightmares for months on end," she admitted honestly. "So don't sweat it too much. Those things are made that way to rattle us. Psychological warfare 101."

Jack looked at her with an unfathomable expression. "That's what you meant, wasn't it? When you said there were things worse than Cerberus out there."

Shepard merely nodded quietly, making her way to where Garrus was hunched over a husk with his omni-tool.

"So, what's the verdict?"

"Well, I hate to break it to you," he said with mock-sadness. "But the patient is dead."

"You don't say, Dr Obvious," she snarked. "What gave it away? Was it the glowing blue eyes or the lack of skin or the circuitry in the lungs?"

Grunt poked it with his shotgun. "Looks human," he mumbled thoughtfully. "This one of the colonists?"

"Kind of. But they seem kind of different," Shepard frowned. They don't look like the same guys I fought on Eden Prime. Or at any time during our hunt for Saren. They seem more advanced. Evolved."

"That's because they _are_ advanced," Garrus said, firing up his omni-tool. "They're faster, stronger and seem to have traded their ability to create EMP bursts for tougher armor. But they're also much too old to be Horizon colonists."

"So they must be colonists from one of their earlier raids," she guessed. "Well, at least we know what the Collectors are doing to the people they kidnap."

"This is some pretty fucked up shit," Jack mumbled.

"I know. And we're going to stop it," Shepard said, her eyes lit with grim determination. "Let's keep moving!"

* * *

If Shepard had imagined that the situation couldn't possibly get any worse, she was woefully disappointed. Every step they took seemed to convince the group that they were in some kind of a cheap horror vid. The deafening silence was bad enough, but the things they saw as they moved deeper into the colony was the stuff of nightmares.

The few remaining colonists seemed to be locked into some kind of a stasis, their bodies contorted into grotesque proportions. Even worse, they seemed to be fully conscious of their predicament, as more than one frozen individual they walked past frantically moved their pupils. The alleys were also full of strange-looking pods, some of which were filled with people. Shepard repressed a shudder at the thought of being locked into one of those things: helpless and completely at the mercy of the collectors.

It tore at her very soul to leave those civilians like that, but there was nothing she could do for them. Were Mordin here, he might have been able to suggest some way of helping them. But without the opinion of someone with a medical background, Shepard was unwilling to so much as move them. And as Zaeed correctly reminded her, they had much bigger concerns right now.

But what bothered her the most was the uncomfortable feeling gnawing at her gut. For some reason, she could not shake off the feeling that someone (or something) was watching her every move very closely. This was not a new feeling to a combat veteran like her, but for some reason this still gave her the shivers.

Then there was that massive Collector cruiser looming over the entire colony, its imposing presence emanating a malevolent aura even from this distance. Shepard felt a chill go down her spine every time that thing came into her field of vision, and the worst part was that she knew exactly why she felt that way.

She recognized that ship. Recognized it too well, in fact. She'd hoped to God she wouldn't, but there was simply no mistaking it.

"Shepard, you okay?" Garrus' voice sounded over her comms.

"I'm fine," she said automatically.

"Uh-huh. And I'm a vorcha," he said sardonically.

In spite of the situation they were in, she found herself cracking a smile. "Well, you certainly look like one."

"You wound me, Commander. Seriously though," he switched over to a more private frequency, "what's got you all worried?"

"It's that damn Collector ship," she admitted. "It keeps bothering me."

"Well, it is pretty horrifying. When you think about all the colonists being herded into that like animals. . ."

"It's not that," she said quickly. "It's just. . . I think. . . I've got this feeling. . ."

"What?"

She licked her lips slightly. "I think. . . no, I _know_. . . that _that_ ship is the one that destroyed the Normandy two years ago!"

Garrus was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I recognize the damn thing. I saw it with my own eyes when I was. . . when I was. . ."

Unbidden, a memory came floating back to her. A memory of the time she was falling. . . falling into the void. . . blackness all around. . . unable to breathe. . . so cold. . .

And there it was, in her final moments, as she felt the life drain out of her with every breath – that grotesque behemoth reducing her beloved Normandy, her home, to pieces. . . like something out of a nightmare. . .

"Shepard? Shepard, are you alright? You're vitals are going haywire! Shepard!"

She could hear Garrus' voice calling out to her, screaming her name. . . but she couldn't focus. . . the helmet was so heavy; it was like she couldn't breathe. . .

 _No, no. . . not now. . . please, not now. . ._

And then it got worse.

"We got hostiles!" Zaeed yelled. "Goddammit, there's a dozen of them!"

The sound of heavy firing filled the air. "I've got them!" Garrus shouted. "Zaeed, watch the Commander!"

"Fuck!" Jack exclaimed. "Those zombie bastards are back!"

 _Dammit!_

Her head was in agony, she couldn't breathe, her hands were feeling so tired that the assault rifle slipped out from her grasp. But despite it all, Shepard found herself reaching for the Avalanche on her back. There was no way she was going to let her team get killed.

 _Not gonna lose them again. . . Garrus. . . my team. . ._

She watched as a shockwave from Jack sent the husks flying into the air. Another group was trying to flank Zaeed, who was busy trying to make his way towards her while spraying at the collector drones. She gingerly took aim, launching a cryo-slug and snap-freezing the abominations before they could get to him. Somewhere above her Garrus was firing away with his sniper rifle. . . she could hear the distinctive noise of the Incisor as it tore through the Collectors' barriers. . .

 _We can win this. . . I can win this. . ._

" **Assuming Direct Control.** _ **"**_

The voice that rang through the battlefield shot a barb of fear into her heart, a primal terror greater than anything she'd ever experienced before. Shepard actually stumbled, throwing up her hands to shield her eyes as one of the Collectors lit up like the sun, its sheer presence pushing her backwards like an invisible force.

"What the hell. . . .?"

The entire team froze in their tracks, gaping at the unbelievable spectacle unfolding before their eyes. They watched as the being, seemingly comprised of pure energy, turned its gaze upon them one after the other, coming to rest upon the Commander.

" **Shepard.** _ **"**_

The creature's powerful voice once again rang through the clearing; ancient and forbidding. Shepard felt her mouth open and close wordlessly, as she locked eyes with a being that seemed to have appeared from her worst nightmares. Only one thought registered in her mind as she fought the impulse to turn and run away screaming.

 _It knows my name. . . it knows my name!_

" **Neutralize the others. Shepard is mine,"** it announced, striding forward purposefully.

"Like hell, you motherfucker!" Jack screamed, recovering fast enough to launch a shockwave at the newest enemy.

The glowing collector didn't even stumble from the blow. It merely cocked its large head and regarded her as if she were a particularly interesting specimen on a petri-dish. **"Human; viable possibility, great biotic potential."** It reached out with one hand and formed a small ball of energy. **"But your attack is an insult."**

"What the hell are you. . .?" Jack began.

"Get down!" Zaeed roared, tackling her to the ground; and not a moment too soon. The glowing fireball launched out of its hand and sailed across the air, hitting an apartment unit behind them. The sheer power behind it was so great that the entire wall was vaporized.

"RAAAAAAH!" Grunt bellowed suddenly. The young krogan bowed his head and charged blindly at the creature, sending husks in his path flying like rag dolls.

But the collector didn't even look at him. Almost lazily it fired off another energy bolt, hitting the krogan head on. With a scream of pain, Grunt crashed into a nearby pile of crates.

" **The forces of the universe bend to me,"** the being intoned. **"Your attacks are pointless."**

The sight of Grunt going down in pain snapped Shepard out of her fear-induced stupor. Her rage overcoming her tactical sense, she hoisted the Avalanche and fired off a round right into its face.

The being did not even react as the heavy shell impacted directly on its head. **"Pitiful,"** it declared, forming another ball of energy in its hand.

It was on sheer instinct that Shepard threw the heavy weapon into the air, directly into the path of the oncoming projectile. The resultant explosion was still enough to knock her off her feet. She rolled on the ground and crawled behind the nearest outcropping of rock, and barely had a second to regain her bearings before her cover exploded, sending her flying once again.

Shepard was completely winded now. She lay face down on the ground, her helmet cracked and HUD blaring that her shields and critical systems were completely down. She felt, rather than heard, heavy footsteps approach her, and then a heavy hand grabbed her by the arm and whipped her around.

Blindly, she groped at her side and pulled out her Carniflex, firing wildly at the glowing figure standing right on top of her. But even the high-caliber rounds of the heavy pistol at point-blank range did nothing to slow the being down. It slapped her pistol away, and with one clawed hand reached out and tore her helmet clean off her head.

Shepard blinked in the harsh sunlight, dazed and completely disoriented. Her head swam as she valiantly tried to focus on the glowing creature, whose face was merely a foot away from her own. Its very presence seemed to heat the air around her, making it harder to breathe. Her armor was actually melting at the spot where the being gripped her with its clawed hand.

"Who. . . are you?" she croaked. " _What_ are you?"

" **We are Harbinger,"** it replied. **"We are your genetic destiny, Shepard."** It reached out with a glowing hand and tightly gripped the side of her skull.

And Commander Shepard screamed.

* * *

 **AN: Oh look at that, it's a cliffhanger. Bwahahaha! *rubs his hands evilly*  
**

 **So as you've all seen, this chapter marks the first real challenge our heroes have faced so far. Harbinger is a hell of a lot powerful here than he is in the games, and unfortunately for Shepard and Co, he's only going to get stronger. The battle with the Collectors is going to take everything our heroes have and then some.**

 **We also get to see a little bit of Shep's vulnerable side in this chapter. I figured with the collector ship looking as monstrous as it was, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to imagine that the sight of it could trigger a flashback to her rather cruel demise. And while she's not going to go all emo on us, a small part of this story will involve Shepard dealing with those demons (since some amount of trauma is fairly inevitable) and eventually coming to terms with her resurrection.**

 **Next up: The fate of Ashley Williams and Horizon hangs in the balance. Will Commander Shepard be able to overcome the might of the strongest of the Reapers and save the day once again?**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)  
**


	18. The One They Fear - II

_**Present. Horizon.**_

Pain. Pain unlike anything she'd ever known overwhelmed her senses. Commander Shepard jerked and screamed helplessly as a million sharp needles seemed to thrust themselves directly into her brain. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her body spasmed uncontrollably as she twitched violently in her captor's unyielding grip.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to what was happening to her mind.

It was like the monster's clawed hands were physically tearing apart the walls of her consciousness. An alien presence burrowing itself ruthlessly into her mental space, probing the darkest reaches of her brain, peeling back the layers to her core one by one.

 _No. . .  
_

A thousand images seemed to flash across her mind, moving so fast that her brain felt like it was going to explode from just trying to keep up. Memories, thoughts, ideas. . . the whole of her life literally flashing across her eyes.

She was seven as she fired a pistol for the first time in a shooting range. . . she was twelve as she entered the living room to see her mother weeping, clutching her father's tags, as two somber officers stood before her in mournful silence. . . she was seventeen when she joined the military academy. . . she was twenty-three, running across the fields of Elysium with a rifle in hand, rallying everyone to its defense. . . she was twenty nine, standing beside Anderson during the graduation ceremony of the ICT program, her mother's proud face beaming at her from the crowd. . .

And then the memories changed.

She was standing on a planet (Earth, by the looks of it) staring in horror as death and destruction rained from the sky. . . her team standing with her, falling down one by one, dead at her feet. . .

 _No. . . please, no!_

Liara, looking darker and more battle-hardened, sitting alone in the darkness of the Shadow Broker base. . . Miranda, her tone fraught with desperation, begging her for something. . . Wrex, hefting his shotgun, glaring at her with more anger and sadness than she'd ever known. . . Tali, her voice choked with tears, wailing in grief on an unknown planet as what looked like meteors rained from the sky. . . Kaidan, pointing a pistol at her, begging her to see reason. . .

 _Make it stop. . . please. . . someone. . ._

World upon world burning to the ground. . . ruined buildings and corpses everywhere. . . and in the center of this all was herself, face disfigured with scars, eyes glowing with hatred and malice. . .

 _Help me. . . please. . . Garrus. . ._

Then without warning a loud report of a gun rang through the air and Shepard found herself landing roughly on the ground as the clawed hand holding her up gave way.

"Get the hell away from her!"

The guttural growl forced her back to consciousness. Shepard opened her eyes slowly, blinking hard to regain focus at the sight of the turian standing a dozen feet away from her.

There he was, sniper rifle in hand, breathing heavily and looking for all the world like he'd fought through an army to get to her. His armor had several deep gashes in it and he was practically covered in gore from the collector drones, but there was still something impressive about the way he stood there staring down the abomination with barely restrained rage.

Harbinger on the other hand, didn't seem all that impressed. It surveyed his newest opponent almost curiously, completely disregarding the fact that one of its hands was ending in a stump now. **"Turian; your prowess is impressive. But you are considered. . . too primitive."**

"Oh yeah? How's this for primitive?" Garrus snarled, firing his Incisor once again. To everyone's surprise, the heavy armor-piercing round of the highly modified sniper made a neat hole through the monster's shoulder, actually causing it to stumble backwards a little.

But the creature wasn't going to go down easily. Just as Garrus prepared to fire a headshot, Harbinger threw up a powerful barrier strong enough to deflect even the Incisor's anti-armor slug.

Without so much as wasting a second, Garrus immediately dropped his sniper and drew out his Vindicator assault rifle. He maintained a steady barrage of armor-piercing rounds on Harbinger's barriers as the being almost casually walked towards him.

" **Your attacks are primitive,"** Harbinger intoned, not even breaking stride. **"What do you hope to achieve?"**

"Oh, I dunno," Garrus smirked vindictively. "Maybe a distraction."

Before the glowing collector could so much as react, it was hit by a powerful arc of pure energy. Shepard followed the beam to where Zaeed was standing behind a few crates, hefting a strange kind of weapon in his hands.

Whatever the heck it was, it worked beautifully. The sheer power of the weapon's energy beam chipped away at Harbinger's armor, and in less than five seconds nearly half of its body had melted away.

Harbinger cast one last malevolent look at the turian. **"Destroying this body gains you nothing,"** it declared. **"We will return."**

" **Releasing control."** And with that, the collector's body dissolved into ashes.

"Shepard!" Garrus hurried over to her. "Shepard, are you alright?"

The Commander opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a stream of vomit. Garrus reached out and threw his arm around her waist, supporting her as she doubled over in agony on the ground.

"Feeling better now?" he asked anxiously.

"I. . . I. . ." With a trembling hand, Shepard wiped her mouth. "I. . . c-can't. . ."

"Shepard! Shepard, what's the matter?"

"I can't," she mumbled slowly. "I can't do this. . . I can't. . ."

Garrus took one hesitant step forward. "Shepard, are you. . .?"

At long last, she turned her face upwards and looked at him. "I can't do this, Garrus," she whispered. "I just can't. I can't beat that . . . that thing. . ."

Garrus looked back at where the rest of the squad was watching them carefully. "Jack, go and check on Grunt," he ordered. "Zaeed, see if you can establish contact with Miranda's team."

He turned back to the woman who was now standing with her arms around herself, trembling slightly. "Jane, you need to relax," he began soothingly. "You're in shock."

She shook her head. "You don't get it, Garrus. That thing. . . it's strong. Really strong! Saren, the geth. . . even _Sovereign_ don't even come anywhere close to its power. There's no way in hell we can beat that!"

"You can," he said firmly. "You're Commander Shepard. There's nothing you can't. . ."

"GODDAMMIT GARRUS, DON'T YOU GET IT?" she screamed suddenly. "I can't fight this thing. I thought I could handle this, but I. . . I can't. It's too damn powerful!"

"I'm not as good as you all think I am. God, nobody's as good as they think I am!" Shepard wiped the tears from her eyes, swallowing heavily. "Ever since I woke up I've been doing my best to keep my shit together. Cerberus, the Collectors, the Shadow Broker, the Alliance, you. . . all this has been so fucked up! But I've been trying to hold my shit together because innocent people's lives were on the line, and I'm. . . I'm Commander Shepard," she gave a hollow laugh. "I'm Commander Shepard, Savior of the goddamn Citadel and all-round hero of the galaxy. . . that's what I'm supposed to be, right? Everyone's counting on me to get the job done, no matter what; and I thought I could handle it. I really did!"

"But that thing," she looked at him wildly. "That thing's too damn _strong_ , Garrus! You wouldn't believe what it's capable of! It. . it tore through my mind like it was nothing. Like _I_ was nothing! And. . . and it showed me some kind of visions!" She hugged herself again. "The visions were so awful, Garrus. It was worse than that stuff I got from the Prothean beacons! I thought. . . I thought my skull was going to explode, and I. . ." She turned away, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

For a whole minute Garrus said nothing. Then he spoke. "Elysium."

"What?" Shepard asked.

"Elysium," he said quietly. "That was almost nine years ago, wasn't it? The Skyllian Blitz?"

"Yeah?"

"You were barely out of the Academy back then. Didn't even start your ICT training."

"Where are you going with this?" she demanded.

Garrus folded his arms. "Back then, you were merely a marine on leave. You could've simple barricaded yourself somewhere safe and waited to be rescued. Instead, you grabbed a rifle and rallied every single available marine and even the civilians to fight the raiders. Against all odds you held the ground until reinforcements arrived."

"So?"

"My question is why?" he asked simply. "Why choose to do that?"

"Are you nuts?" Shepard goggled at him. "If we hadn't fought back, the whole of Elysium would've been wiped out!"

"I get that bit," he agreed. "What I don't understand is why _you_ had to be the one to rally the crowd? Why not someone else?"

"That's ridiculous. . ."

"Just _answer_ the question, Jane. _Why_ did you do it? Did you lead the offensive because you wanted to be a hero? You wanted to be a poster girl for the Alliance? Or was it that shiny medal they awarded you. . ."

Shepard took a threatening step forward. "I did it because it had to be done!" she said hotly. "I did it because someone had to, and I decided that someone was going to be me!"

"And that, right there, is why you're going to beat the collectors," Garrus smirked triumphantly. "You're not doing it for the glory, you're not doing it because Cerberus or the Alliance is asking you to. . . you're doing it because _someone_ has to!"

"You didn't go after Saren because the Council ordered you to, you did it because it had to be done! You didn't steal the Normandy and fly out to Ilos because you're some kind of hotshot renegade, you did it because it had to be done! You didn't take on an entire army of Geth for the glory, you did it because it had to be done!" He pointed his talon at her to emphasize the point. " _That's_ why we're following your command! That's why Joker and Chakwas abandoned the Alliance to come and work for you! That's why there's a ship full of people out there ready to follow you into hell itself: it's because you're doing something no one else will, and you're doing it because _someone_ has to!"

Garrus strolled away to retrieve her fallen Mattock. "So yeah, you got beaten once. You got unlucky, you were taken by surprise. . . whatever. But that's not enough to take you down, because if it was you'd have gone down years ago." He returned the assault rifle to her with a smile. "You're Commander Jane Shepard, the greatest of them all. Next time Harbinger shows his ugly face around you, he's going to get his ass handed to him. I guarantee it."

Shepard smiled slowly. "You really have that much faith in me?" she asked, taking back the gun.

"You've done it before," Garrus smiled. "You'll do it again."

It was only after she finished inspecting her weapon for damage that his words fully registered. "What do you mean by ' _done it before_ '?" she frowned.

"Er. . . I meant with Sovereign," he said quickly. "This Harbinger is obviously a Reaper just like Sovereign; and if you could beat him, then you'll beat this one as well."

"You know, I completely missed that one," she said thoughtfully. "Harbinger sounded just like Sovereign did, and he's got the whole 'possessing-evil-things' down pat. He really couldn't be anything other than a Reaper, could he?"

"I scanned him using my visor. The energy signature was _exactly_ like Sovereign's. Harbinger's a Reaper, Shepard. No question about it."

"Damn, I should've seen that." Shepard shook her head roughly. "I'm really sorry about freaking out on you back there, Garrus. I shouldn't have. . ."

But Garrus merely waved his taloned hand. "Spirits, Shepard! You've got nothing to apologize for! If there's anyone out there who deserves to lose their crap every once in a while, it's you."

"I know, but still. . . thanks. For everything, I mean."

"Don't worry about it. You're only human after all."

"Oh really?" she cocked an eyebrow. "' _Only human_ '? Then what the heck does that make _you_ , turian?"

"Well, I'm perfect of course," Garrus drawled, buffing his talons on his chest-plate. "Turians are the ultimate stage of natural evolution."

"Oh sureeee. Course they are, you scaly dinosaur!"

"Racism is unbecoming of you, Commander," he sniffed disdainfully.

"Whatever, bird-brain."

"Hey now!"

Their light-hearted banter was interrupted as Jack walked upto them. "You okay, Boss Lady?"

"I'm fine, Jack. Thanks. How's Grunt?"

"Not very happy." She pointed over her shoulder where the young krogan was angrily grounding the remaining collector corpses to a fine powder beneath his massive boots.

"He's still recovering pretty well, considering he took that hit at point-blank range," Garrus said, observing his vitals through his visor. "I'd say the kid's ego took more of a beating that his body."

"He's not the only one," Jack growled, hands clenching into fists. "Call me weak, will he? The next time I see that glowing fucker, he's going down hard!"

"He will," Shepard promised, slotting a fresh heat sink into her rifle. "No question about that."

"Speaking of which," she turned back to Garrus, "what the hell was that weapon Zaeed was hitting him with?"

"Some kind of prototype collector tech, I think," he shrugged. "He saw it lying near one of those pods and picked it up."

"Commander," Zaeed called out suddenly. "Just got a message from Team Bravo."

"What's the news?" she hurried forward.

Zaeed's expression was grim. "It's bad."

* * *

"Team Alpha! Come in, Team Alpha! Is _anyone_ on this frequency?"

Miranda leaned out of her cover momentarily to shoot a collector drone in the head, only to duck back from a hail of retaliatory fire. "We need backup! I repeat, we urgently need backup!"

She winced in pain, trying her hardest to not move her fractured leg. A dozen meters away she could make out Jacob fighting against a horde of husks like a demon. Kasumi was huddled against the central console, frantically working to establish EDI's connection with one hand while cradling the other. Mordin was standing near her, firing at collectors with his pistol and simultaenpously shooting bolts of plasma from his omni-tool, his usually cheerful face contorted into an expression of grim concentration.

 _Bloody hell, Shepard! Where **are** you!?_

Miranda cursed as another stream of fire forced her to duck down. She still couldn't believe just how quickly things had gone to hell.

Despite the communication handicap, Shepard's plan had been executed without a hitch. Miranda and her team managed to make their way through the colony while encountering little to no resistance. Even with Mordin pausing occasionally to collect a few samples, they still managed to make excellent time on their way to the turret control towers.

The only noticeable hiccup their team encountered was running into Delan, the uncouth mechanic hiding in the garage. The man's obnoxiousness and lack of gratitude had grated on Miranda's nerves to such an extent that for a moment she was sorely tempted to let Mordin use him for one of his "experiments" (for science, of course). The belligerent mechanic did manage to confirm the location of the GARDIAN lasers' control systems, however. So Miranda was content to leave him behind in his hidey-hole, satisfied with the knowledge that Kasumi had probably emptied his wall safe in all the confusion.

But barely minutes after they'd arrived at the central console, their position was completely overrun with enemy troops. As Zaeed had correctly predicted, it was a complete bloodbath. Within seconds Kasumi's arm was injured and the rest of the team was fighting for their lives.

Still they held on. Combining hers and Jacob's biotic prowess along with Mordin's skill(the salarian truly lived up to his reputation as an STG legend), Miranda had actually mounted a successful counter-attack against the collectors. The odds continued to remain in their favor even after those husks showed up.

But then it all went to hell when that. . . thing appeared out of nowhere.

Even now, the very thought of that giant purple monster gave Miranda the shivers. With a giant insect-like body, mouth full of the skulls of husks, glowing blue eyes, an extremely powerful particle beam weapon and some of the strongest barriers and armor she'd ever seen, it had destroyed their upper hand in a matter of moments. It took every last ounce of Miranda's biotic strength and several successive blasts of plasma from Mordin to bring the thing down.

But even then it had not gone silently. Just as it hit the ground shrieking in pain, its convulsing body sent out one large shockwave of energy which Miranda was unable to dodge given her proximity to the creature. It ended up with her right knee snapping neatly in half, completely ruining any chances of moving around the battlefield.

Now, as she crouched around an upturned cargo crate, Miranda prayed fervently for reinforcements to come in soon. Her team was heavily outnumbered, she was pinned down, unable to move an inch, and any second now her position would be overrun with enemy forces. Given the fact that she'd exhausted most of her biotic strength in bringing down the praetorian (the temporary name she'd given the insect-like creature), it was unlikely she'd survive such an attack.

As if in response to her thoughts, the nearest group of husks turned around and made their way towards her. She grit her teeth and hoisted her pistol, ready to go down fighting. . .

Only for a barrage of gunfire to cut them down.

 _Shepard!_

She pushed her sweaty hair over her head. "About bloody time, Commander!" She turned around to face her. "I thought. . ."

And Miranda Lawson's jaw dropped.

At that moment, Miranda fully understood for the first time why everyone, including the Illusive Man, regarded Jane Shepard with such respect and fear. The look upon Shepard's face as she stood atop a pile of crates, the sun behind her shoulder throwing her dark red hair into sharp focus, was more terrible than Miranda could have ever imagined. There was no trace of her usual cocky smile, no sign of mischievous laughter behind those bright green eyes as she stared down the collector forces. Her eyes were cold, hard; the barest hint of red glowing within her irises. Every last muscle in her body was stretched taut with cold fury. A sense of power seemed to radiate from her very being, as though she were a personification of the sun itself descended onto the battlefield.

This was not the Jane Shepard who spent her time playing the fool with everyone. No, this was the woman who single-handedly led the defense of Elysium against an army of pirates, this was the woman who hunted Saren Arterius himself across the ends of the galaxy, this was the woman who brought humanity to a position on the galactic stage they couldn't have even dreamed of achieving before the next two centuries. . . .

This was the woman even the Reapers feared.

Miranda watched in shock as no less than a dozen husks seemed to swarm Shepard's position. The Commander simply hoisted her assault rifle and charged straight at them.

To call it a massacre would be an understatement. Shepard tore through the group of husks with ease, using a combination of gunfire and close-quarters combat tactics even Miranda had never seen. The fluidity of her movements and the sheer calculation behind every one of her strikes was so great that she almost seemed like a force of nature.

And it wasn't just her, Miranda realized. She watched as the collector drones fell one after the other to the sounds of Vakarian's sniper, Grunt crashed his way across to Jacob making mincemeat of all the husks in his way. A massive shockwave from that insufferable Jack scattered all the enemies close to the central console, allowing Zaeed to rush in and join Mordin in defending Kasumi near the controls.

In a matter of moments, Shepard had turned the battle completely on its head. They were actually going to win. . .

" **Assuming Direct Control."**

Miranda threw up a hand to shield her eyes as one of the collectors nearest to her lit up with the power of the sun. While she had no idea who this new opponent was, the power radiating from its body was enough to tell her that it was bad news.

Almost on reflex, she sent a biotic warp directly at it. Her attack merely bounced off harmlessly against its armored hide, serving only to attract its attention towards her.

 **"Human,"** it declared, surveying her curiously. **"Viable possibility, impressive genetic malleability."**

 _What? How could it have known. . ._

" **But before that, you must learn to submit."** It raised a hand, presumably to retaliate, only to be distracted by several powerful bursts of gunfire.

"Hey ugly! Over here!"

" **Shepard."** It turned its evil glare upon the Commander, creating a large ball of flame in its hand.

"Missed me, asshole?" Shepard asked, neatly jumping out of the way of its attack. "Huh. Looks like you did."

" **You could have been useful, Shepard,"** it announced, striding forward. **"But now you have merely become a nuisance."**

"Yeah, whatever. And your mother's a vorcha!"

" **You cannot stop us, Shepard."** The being continued to fire bolt after bolt of energy. **"My attacks will tear you apart."**

"First they'd have to hit me, freakzoid!" Shepard yelled, moving so fast across the battlefield that the collector's attacks could barely keep up.

As impressive as all this was, Miranda realized that it was just a matter of time before she slipped up and one of those bolts found its mark. Considering the massive craters it left in its wake, the Cerberus Operative doubted Shepard could survive a direct hit from one of those.

Fortunately, it seemed that the Commander had at least a semblance of a plan. "Miranda," her voice came over the comms. "Listen carefully. When I give the signal I want you to hit Harbinger with the strongest warp you've got!"

Miranda wanted to point out that her previous attack had had little effect on the creature, but she knew now was not the time to ask questions. "Understood, Commander."

" **You will regret your resistance, Shepard,"** Harbinger warned. **"Our power is unmatched. Before us you are merely bacteria. You cannot. . ."**

"Jack, now!"

The ground seemed to shake slightly as a tidal wave of pure biotic energy struck Harbinger suddenly from behind, tossing him into the air.

"How's that for an ' _insult_ ', dickwad?" Jack yelled.

But Shepard wasn't done yet. "Miranda, go for it!"

The Normandy XO followed up with her strongest biotic warp, smirking when she understood the full extent of Shepard's plan. Specifically, the fact that Harbinger had landed right beside a rather large fuel container.

BOOM!

The ground actually shook this time round as the massive explosion engulfed Harbinger in boiling flame. For a couple of moments Miranda thought they'd won, but then slowly a silhouette rose from within the flames.

"Impossible," she whispered in horror.

 **"We are Harbinger!"** the being bellowed. **"We are limitless. Your attacks are irrelevant."**

"Funny," Shepard smirked. "I was hoping you'd say that."

With lightning speed she drew one of the collectors' particle beam cannons from her back and fired directly into Harbinger's face. The creature's body shuddered under the intensity of the energy beam, disintegrating right before their eyes.

After what seemed like a full minute, the glowing beast fell to its knees. **"You only damage the vessel, you cannot hurt me."** It fixed Shepard with a hateful look. **"You have merely delayed the inevitable. We will return."**

"I know," Shepard murmured as the collector's burned-out corpse fell to the ground and all signs of life disappeared from its eyes. "And I'll be waiting to kick your ass again."

"GARDIAN anti-ship batteries at 100%," EDI finally announced. "Firing anti-ship batteries at Collector vessel now, Commander. Please stand by."

"Go for it, EDI!"

The sound of the massive cannons firing rand through the air, and everyone turned as one towards the collector vessel. The cruiser's shields shuddered for a whole minute under the lasers' impact before its engines fired and it took off.

"They're running away," Grunt rumbled angrily. "Cowards!"

"For now," Shepard agreed. "But we'll catch up to them eventually."

"So. . . I guess that means we won," Kasumi said slowly. "I mean, we did save the colonists, right?"

"Actually Ms Goto, as per my estimates about half of the colony's residents were aboard the collector ship at the time of its escape," EDI informed her.

"Oh," Kasumi's shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Guess that means we didn't win, after all."

Zaeed lit a cigar. "Not sure if I'd put it that way, sweetheart."

"Yeah?" Jacob asked, flinching slightly as Mordin worked on dressing up his wounds. "Half the colony got taken. You'd still call that a victory?"

"Damn right I would."

"What!?"

"Let me put it this way," Zaeed exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Half the colony's still safe, and all of us are still breathing. That's a goddamn victory right there."

"Zaeed's right," Garrus said grimly. "In situations like these we've got to take what we can get. We managed to save half the colony and survived what is easily the most difficult fight we've had as a team. I'd say that still counts as a win."

"Live to fight another day, huh?" Jacob snorted. "I can get behind that."

"Meh. Whatever," Jack scowled. "I still say we kicked ass today! Especially that fucker with the glowing eyes." She gave the Commander a fierce grin. "Nailed him good, didn't we sis?"

"You got it," Shepard smiled, punching her lightly on the shoulder.

"Yes, well. . . I'm sure that's very good," Miranda grunted. "Now, Commander, if you'll hail the Normandy. . ." She gave a small moan of pain as she attempted to get up and sat back down again.

"Shit, Miranda!" Shepard hurried over to her. "You alright?"

"I'm. . . fine," she gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Let me take a look," Shepard offered, taking out her last pack of medigel.

"You need it more than me, Shepard," Miranda gestured at the numerous scratches and cuts on the other woman's face.

"I've had worse," she shrugged. "Now hold still."

"Awww. . . ain't that so touching?" Jack sneered, crossing her arms. "What's the matter, Cheerleader? Heels slow you down?"

"Jack," Shepard moved to cut Miranda off before the brunette exploded. "Go and check on Kasumi. Now!"

The convict scowled but silently acquiesced.

"She does have a point though," Miranda said after a few moments. "I messed up this one. You have my apologies, Commander."

"You didn't screw up anything, Miranda."

"But I failed. . ."

Shepard merely shook her head. "You followed my orders to the letter and given a highly unpredictable situation, improvised the best you could. We got unlucky when the collectors deduced our plan and attacked this area, but you were still able to hold them off long enough to reinforcements to arrive. In my book, that's a huge win." She gave her XO a small smile. "If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a single thing. You vindicated my trust in your abilities, Miranda. So stop being so hard on yourself."

This time Miranda did blush heavily cleared her throat. It was hard to feel overwhelmed by Shepard's honest praise, especially after she'd just seen what the Commander was really capable of. "You should hail the Normandy," she said quickly. "It'd be best for us to clear out really before Alliance ships. . ."

"What the hell is going on here!?"

Everyone turned around to see one of the colonists rushing out into the courtyard, his eyes looking up at the trail of smoke left behind by the Collector Cruiser.

"What the hell happened to the ship? Where are the others!?" he demanded hysterically.

"It's gone, Delan," Miranda said, slowly sitting up on a wall. "There was nothing we could do to stop it."

"But-but half the colony was on that thing. They took Egan and Sam and. . . and Lilith! You gotta do something!"

"We did what we could," Shepard said sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" he snarled, throwing his cap down on the ground in frustration. "Half the freaking colony's gone! What good are you guys anyway!?"

"Hey, back off!" Kasumi snapped. "Shepard did everything she could to save this colony while you were busy hiding in your garage! If it wasn't for her you'd _all_ be board that ship!"

"Shepard? Wait. . . I know that name." Delan narrowed his eyes at the Commander. "Sure, I remember you. Aren't you some type of big Alliance hero?"

"Commander Shepard," a voice said softly. "Captain of the Normandy. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel, and the Lioness of Elysium."

Shepard's face lit up at the sight of the lone marine in Alliance uniform stiffly walking up to their group. "You're in the presence of a god, Delan. Back from the dead."

Ashley Williams halted and shot her former CO a wide smile. "Hey, Commander. It's been awhile."

* * *

 **AN: This chapter is definitely the most important one so far in terms of character development. Not only do we get to see a bit of Shepard's vulnerable side, but we also get a glimpse of what really makes her a hero.  
**

 **The way I see it, it's Commander Shepard's determination that makes him/her a hero in the games. Throughout the ME series we see Shepard doing things most people won't (or can't). But regardless of whether you play as a Paragon or Renegade, you have to admit it's Shepard's willingness to do things that need to be done is what makes him/her stand out throughout the story. That's basically what the title of the chapter hints at: you can knock Shepard down, but you can't _stop_ her from doing what needs to be done. And that is ultimately what makes her the only one the Reapers fear.  
**

 **Incidentally, Harbinger's actions in this chapter are going to have some very long-term repercussions for our heroes, if you know what I mean.**

 **Next up: A long awaited reunion between friends takes place as Shepard and Garrus work to convince Ashley of their intentions. Meanwhile, Aria receives a visitor who might just end up turning all of Omega on its head.  
**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)  
**


	19. With Friends Like These

**Happy Easter, everyone!**

 **First things first, I owe everyone a huge apology for leaving you all with such a cliffhanger. To make up for it, I've made this chapter slightly longer than usual. Hope you all enjoy it.**

 **Now on with the story:**

* * *

 ** _Present. Omega._ **

It was not very often that the Queen of Omega was roused from her sleep in the middle of the night. But the few times she had had all been under exceptional circumstances.

This time was going to be no different.

Aria T'Loak absently fired up her private line. "What is it?" she demanded, her voice still crisp and sharp despite the lateness of the hour.

The voice on the other end belonged Grizz, one of her most reliable enforcers. "Aria. We. . have a bit of a situation."

The asari raised a painted eyebrow over the hesitation in her subordinate's subharmonics. There were very few things in the galaxy that could rattle a man with Grizz's experience; the turian was as tough as they came.

"Go on."

"It's about Patriarch."

Aria felt a slight sinking feeling in her gut, accompanied by a twinge of what could vaguely be described as guilt. She understood what this was about. She'd known for a while that the Blood Pack had had it in for her former ally and had been wondering whether to interfere or not. It seemed now that she had delayed that decision a bit too long. "He's dead?" she asked quietly.

"Umm. . . no. He's very much alive. Having a party and all. The assassins that came after him on the other hand. . ."

"He took out the Blood Pack assassins by himself?" Aria asked in genuine surprise. Who knew the old bastard still had some fight left in him?

"He had help."

"From whom?"

"I was getting to that. See, I got a call from the Captain Gavorn about this crazy asari who walked into the lower level of Afterlife a few hours ago."

"We have a hundred crazy asaris walking into Afterlife at any given moment, Grizz!" Aria snapped.

"But not like this one. I swear in the name of the Spirits, this lady is nuts! A whole different bag of crazy!"

"What did she do?" Aria demanded.

"Well. . . for starters, she killed Forvan, the bartender."

"What!?"

"That's right," Grizz confirmed. "Got him full in the face with a shotgun. Stone cold."

"But why!?"

"Apparently he makes a lousy Frozen Pyjack."

Aria could hardly believe her ears. "She _shot_ a bartender in my club because he couldn't get a drink right!?"

"Well, yeah. . ."

"And what the hell was Gavorn doing?" she demanded. "It's his job to guard the club! What the fuck am I paying him for if not to prevent this crap!?"

"About that. . . turns out all those rumors about Forvan secretly poisoning humans have been true, and Gavorn's suspected it for a while. So he decided to let it go."

"He _let it go_!?" Aria repeated in shock. "What the hell. . ."

"Yeah, well. He says the drinks might've had something to do with it."

"What drinks!?"

"Turns out that after the asari killed Forvan, she jumped across the bar and started mixing drinks herself, saying she was gonna show 'em how a real bartender does their job. . ."

Aria felt a slight headache coming on. "She started mixing drinks!?"

"Yup. Did a pretty good job, too. Gavorn says the usual crowd loved what she was serving up. Then she had a few drinks herself and spent an hour dancing. Gavorn says he's never seen anyone move like that. . ."

"Grizz," Aria began in a dangerous voice. "If this is your idea of joke, I swear I'll flay you alive and nail your corpse to. . ."

"I'm not kidding, Aria! I'm just telling you what I know so far. . ."

"Well, get to the damn point already!" she snapped. "What does this asari have anything to do with Patriarch?"

"I'm getting to that," he said hurriedly. "After she finished dancing, the asari goes and starts drinking with Patriarch. Gets along really well with him too. They were laughing their assess off for about an hour. . ."

Aria frowned slightly. So this asari was an old friend of the krogan battlemaster? "What were they talking about?" she demanded.

"Well," Grizz sounded really uncomfortable now. "They were talking about you, Aria."

"Me!?"

"Yeah. The old asari claimed she knew you from way before your matron days. Kept reminiscing with Patriarch about how innocent you looked back then. Her words, not mine," he added hastily.

A cold feeling of dread settled over the Queen of Omega. There was only one asari she knew off who would be bold enough (or stupid enough) to walk into _her_ domain and spout crap like that. "What happened next?"

"Well, she and kept Patriarch kept talking." Grizz seemed to relax slightly as the explosion he'd been waiting for didn't seem to materialize. "Then she mentioned overhearing about the Blood Pack assassins out to get him, and convinced the krogan to take the fight to them instead."

There was a long pause. "Go on," Aria said.

"And. . . well. . . this is the part that really gets me." She could practically hear Grizz scratching his mandible in confusion. "They won, Aria. A washed up battlemaster and an asari who'd had enough drinks to kill an army of vorcha. . . and they kicked the shit out of two Blood Pack krogan in their prime!"

"How?"

"Well. . . witnesses say that they. . . ah. . . headbutted them to death."

Aria was careful not to let the surprise in her voice show. "Even the asari?"

"Especially the asari," Grizz confirmed. "Some of the guys said that they actually heard one of the krogans' skull crack when the asari headbutted him. You see why I called you now? This doesn't make any sense, Aria. None of it does! All my time in the galaxy and I haven't seen anything like it before! Hell, if I wasn't talking to you I'm pretty sure I was dreaming all this up while lying somewhere dead drunk. . ."

"Where are you right now?" she said, cutting off the rambling turian.

"In the lower level of Afterlife. We threw everyone else out, but those two are still drinking. Figured you might wanna take a look."

"Stay there. I'm on my way," Aria ordered, jumping out of bed.

There was no doubt about it. Not anymore. There was only one asari that Aria knew off who could act so brazenly; who could be so thoughtless in her actions and so completely dismissive of consequences. . .

But why now? After all these centuries!?

Shaking her head in frustration, Aria made her way out of her home. In less than ten minutes she was striding purposefully into the empty club with only her closest aides at her side.

Even from this distance there was no mistaking that guttural laugh. Aria's eyes narrowed as she marched towards the extremely familiar asari knocking back drinks with the old krogan battlemaster.

"Aria!" Patriarch bellowed in drunken happiness. "Finally, you remembered your old Patriarch?"

"I'm not here for you!" she snarled, fixing a baleful glare towards the newcomer.

It was then that the other asari finally caught her eye and her face split into that drunken grin Aria knew so well. "Hey there, Purple-Tits," she smirked. "Nice digs you got here!"

It took all the patience she had cultivated over the centuries for Aria T'Loak to not groan out aloud.

"Aethyta," the Queen of Omega growled. "What the hell are you doing here!?"

* * *

 ** _Present. Horizon._**

After Eden Prime, Virmire and the Battle of the Citadel, Ashley Williams had been pretty certain there was nothing in the galaxy that could surprise her anymore.

But that was before her former CO and good friend came back from the dead.

The slow walk through the colony had been like a surreal dream. Ashley could scarcely believe her eyes after everything that had happened that day: all those corpses of bug-like aliens spread all over the colony, so many colonists frozen in their tracks. . . and those husks. The mere sight of them made her skin crawl, bringing back those long-suppressed traumatic memories of Eden Prime. Ashley had distracted herself by extracting some of the colonists still trapped in those strange-looking pods while ignoring her own significant injuries.

But nothing she had seen that day could have prepared her for this. Following the sound of raised voices in the distance, Ashley had limped forward to see something that seriously had her questioning her sanity.

Commander Jane Shepard, her superior, her hero. . . her friend was standing right there. In the flesh. Just like she remembered.

"Hey Commander," Ashley smiled, trying her hardest to figure out what to say next.

"Ash," Shepard breathed, her tired face lighting up with palpable relief. "Thank God you're alright!"

"Hmph," Delan grunted, obviously not sharing in her joy. "All the good people we lost and you get left behind. Screw this. I'm done with you Alliance types!"

Ashley simply ignored him, taking a tentative step towards her old friend. But before she could make up her mind on whether to offer a hug or a handshake, she found herself being swallowed up by a tall mass of armored alien.

"What the. . . ?"

"Williams," a very familiar flanged tone rumbled happily in her ears. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Geroff me!" She struggled against his long lanky arms. "Garrus. . . get off!"

"What, I don't even get a hug?"

"Gah!" she choked, gagging over the noxious smell of collector guts and turian sweat ( _did turians even sweat?_ ) emanating from his armor. "Let go. . Garrus! Get off!"

Finally deciding to heed her frantic cries, her old comrade relinquished his hold on her and took a step back.

Ashley took a deep gulp of fresh air. "Dammit Vakarian!" she snapped, glaring at the turian whose mandibles were flared in a wide grin. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Who me?" Garrus asked, still with that damning wide smile on his face. "Can't I just be happy that you're safe?"

"Yeah, right," Ashley muttered, continuing to glare at him suspiciously. "Just. . . no hugs, okay?"

"It's still good to see you're safe, Ash," Shepard smiled. "We were all worried as hell!"

"Thanks, Commander. I'm just glad I can say the same. I mean. . . that _is_ you, right?" She took a nervous step back. "You're not a ghost or anything?"

"Nah. I'm pretty sure I'm still alive."

"But. . . but how? I mean, I _saw_ you when the Normandy went down. . ."

"Bit of a long story, Ash," Shepard grimaced. "Short version is that I died. Then I came back."

"Uh-huh." Ashley gave her a disbelieving look. "Next you're gonna tell me you can walk on water."

"Well, I haven't really tried. . ."

"No Shepard. You cannot walk on water," Miranda spoke from behind her in a bored tone.

"Are you. . .?"

"I'm fairly certain, yes."

"Aww. All those billions of credits and you couldn't even put in something that basic!" Shepard pouted slightly. "You're just no fun, Miranda!"

The Cerberus Operative gradually felt a headache coming on that had nothing to do with the difficult battle she'd just fought.

"What's this about billions of credits?" Ashley enquired.

"Miranda's organization invested a shit ton of credits into bringing me back," Shepard explained. "Putting aside the lack of the ability to walk on water, I still got some pretty cool enhancements."

"Such as?"

"Errr. . . . you know, that's a really good question," Shepard frowned. "Hey, Miranda. Just what kind of enhancements do I have, anyway?"

Miranda simply stared at her. "We talked about this only two weeks ago, Shepard. How could you have forgotten so quickly?"

"We did?"

"Of course we did! You dropped into my office to go over mission reports, remember? Then you asked me about Project Lazarus and your enhancements and I. . . ." It was then that the Cerberus Operative finally realized something. "Commander," she asked quietly. "Were you paying attention to our conversation back then?"

"Umm. . ." Shepard rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

"I spent two whole hours explaining your cybernetic enhancements in _extreme_ detail." Miranda's voice seemed to grow colder with every syllable she uttered. "Surely you were giving me your complete, _undivided_ attention. Weren't you,Commander?"

"Er. . ."

 _ **Two weeks ago.**_

 _"The Lazarus Project was probably the first-of-its-kind scientific endeavor ever attempted in human history," Miranda explained in a prim tone. "After we recovered your body, our scientists began by performing a thorough, and in some cases even invasive, analysis of every part to determine which of your organs were usable and which would require complete replacement. . ."_

 _Shepard struggled to contain a yawn before her rambling XO. Already she could feel her eyelids beginning to flutter shut, and a heavy feeling that she had come to associate with sleep began to settle over her._

 _"Our progress was very slow but you were showing signs of recovery. Most of your major organs regained function. . ."_

 _She couldn't go to sleep. She couldn't. Miranda would flay her alive if she fell asleep in front of her desk, but damn if her droning voice wasn't like a lullaby to Shepard's ears. . ._

 _"We also outfitted you with ocular synaptic processors that will help you in focusing on your targets. . ."_

 _. . . and the chair was just so comfortable. Really, it was so much more comfy than the one she had in her cabin; and the air-conditioning temperature was just right. . ._

 _"Blah-blah. . . recovery. . . yak yak. . . regeneration. . ."_

 _. . . and Shepard was off to the land of dreams before she knew it._

 _ **Present.**_

"How on earth did you fall asleep at my desk without my even noticing?" Miranda asked in genuine surprise.

"I'm an expert at sleeping with my eyes open," Shepard declared with no small amount of pride. "It's a technique I developed when I was at the Academy. Never got caught even once."

"Sleeping with your eyes open?" Garrus' voice vibrated with amusement. "You're full of surprises, Shepard."

"Hey, what can I say? All that sciensy crap makes me sleepy."

"But. . . but how?" Miranda seemed to be struggling to digest this new information about the woman she'd been idolizing a scant few minutes ago. "How did you manage to graduate from the Academy if you slept through all your classes?"

"Last minute cram sessions," Shepard shrugged. "I pulled all-nighters for every single test. Never needed much sleep anyway."

Behind her, Ashley had buried her face into her hands and was slowly shaking her head. "'Standing in the presence of a god'," she mumbled. "No wonder everyone thinks I'm crazy."

"So, as I was saying, Ash, I have absolutely no idea what kind of enhancements I've got, but I'm one hundred percent certain I'm me," Shepard announced grandly. The devastating lack of logic behind her statement seemed not to deter her in the slightest.

"I dunno, Commander. It's kinda hard to take you on your word with the company you're keeping." Ashley cast a wary glance in the direction of Jack who was busy rummaging through the refrigerator of a nearby house in a futile search for alcohol.

Shepard seemed to have misunderstood her meaning, however. "Oh, don't worry about Miranda and Jacob," she said with a dismissive wave. "These guys at Cerberus just seem to have a strange leather fetish."

"Hey!" Miranda protested.

"Cerberus?" Ashley frowned. "What the heck is this ' _Cerberus'_ supposed to be?"

"Just a godless, soulless group of xenophobic devil-worshippers hell bent on conquering the galaxy and eating the livers of virgins," Shepard said with a shrug.

"We are not a bunch of xenophobic. . ." Miranda began hotly, before throwing up her arms in defeat. "You know what? Fine! We're _all_ a bunch of devil-worshipping terrorists! Hail Satan!" Then she turned and limped away angrily.

"Wow," Shepard muttered, watching her go. "Never thought she'd actually admit it."

"These damn heathens are getting bolder by the day," Ashley shook her head. Then she blinked rapidly and groaned, sinking to the ground with her hands on her head.

"You alright, Ash?" Shepard asked in concern.

"I'm fine. . . just hit my head a little. . . dizzy. . ."

"Hey Mordin!" Shepard called out. "Need a hand here!"

Ashley watched in mild surprise as an old salarian quickly scurried to her side. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "Human female!" He then proceeded to run his omni-tool over her skull. "Hmm. . . broken nose. Easily fixed. Slight concussion. Possible light fracture of the skull due to fall. Small injection of medigel on cranium should suffice."

As the salarian continued to work on her injuries while steadily muttering under his breath, Ashley shot the Commander a dubious look. Shepard smiled reassuringly. "Mordin might seem a bit nuts sometimes, but he's one of the most brilliant members of my team. He's also an STG veteran, so you can trust him."

"STG?" Ashley said in surprise. "You mean like the salarians on Virmire?"

"Ah, Virmire! Have heard stories. Saw mission reports. You were there, yes?" He peered at her closely. "Of course, of course! Chief Ashley Williams of the Alliance. Fought alongside Captain Kirrahe's team."

"You know Captain Kirrahe!?"

"Oh yes. Have worked together before. Fond of theatrics and big speeches. 'Hold the line!'" Mordin smiled fondly at the memory. "Bit of a cloaca. But good soldier."

"Yeah," Ashley grinned. "He's a great guy. Loves his speeches and all."

She then turned back to the other two. "So what kind of a crew have you got here Commander? Former STG? Heathens with a leather fetish?" She cast another side long look at Jack in the distance. "And whatever the hell that's supposed to be. . ."

"Just what in the hell is going on here? How the hell are you still alive? Where were you these last two years? What. . .?"

"Whoa, whoa. . . easy there, Williams," Garrus said. "We know you've got a lot questions. And we're gonna answer them all."

"That's right," Shepard agreed. "You brought them with you, Garrus?"

"Course I did." He reached into his armor and pulled out a large data pad.

"Alrighty then." Shepard crouched down until she was eye level with the marine and fired up the data pad. "Now pay attention, Ash. This gets complicated." She turned the holo-pad to face her and Ashley's jaw dropped.

The holo-pad showed an image of crude drawing made with what looked like crayons. The first picture had a weird blue-colored plane with the words 'NORMANDY' spelled out on its side.

"So," Shepard cleared her throat. "The year was 2183 when the SSV Normandy SR1, the pride of the Systems Alliance and the scourge of all evil in the galaxy, was on a mission to find the remaining geth forces and bring the fist of justice down upon them."

"Fist of justice," Garrus repeated. "You know, I really like the sound of that!"

"Thanks," Shepard grinned. "So anyways, the Normandy was streaking through space on a mission of justice under the command of the great Commander Jane Shepard, the Hero of the Citadel."

"But everything changed when the Collectors attacked," Garrus growled dramatically.

"That's right." Shepard changed the image. "Their vessel snuck up on our heroes and attacked them when they were least expecting it. . ."

"Er. . . really hate to interrupt you, Commander," Ashley said slowly. "But what's this kidney doing here?"

"Kidney?" Shepard looked at the drawing. "Don't be silly, Ash. That's the Collector ship!"

"Uh-huh. And those yellow lines around it?"

"It's an evil aura," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Evil auras are usually yellow or red. Honestly Ash, haven't you ever watched a holo-vid?"

Resisting the urge to throttle the woman crouching before her, Ashley took a deep breath. "What's this supposed to be?" She pointed to a cross-eyed stick figure with a fuzzy red head at the edge of the drawing.

"That's me," Shepard said brightly. "You know, when I was thrown out of the ship and spaced. . ."

"And what's this box over here?"

"That's an escape pod. See, there's you and Chakwas in it, making your escape as I valiantly sacrifice myself to ensure your safety. . ."

By this point, Ashley had had enough. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?" she screamed, before snatching the holo-pad and throwing it as hard as she could. The pad spun through the air in a graceful arc, hitting a departing Delan right on top of the head and knocking him out cold.

"Hey!" Shepard protested. "I spent a whole hour making those!"

"I don't care!" Ashley snarled. "Why the hell are you two acting as if I'm some snot-nosed kid who needs a picture book to understand what you're saying?"

"Well," Garrus began slowly. "We figured since you took a hit to the head. . ."

"Don't finish that sentence if you value your life, turian," she warned. "Now, I want the truth, okay? And no more funny stuff!"

Shepard sighed and got to her feet. "I guess that means it's time for Plan B, Garrus."

"Plan B it is," he agreed.

The Commander cleared her throat and struck a pose. Ashley blinked and did a double-take when she realized that Garrus was suddenly holding a banjo of all things. But before her mind could so much as register what was happening, Shepard began to sing.

"Ohhhhh. . . . There once was a Commander on a Normandy so fine," she began.

"When along came a Collector Ship interrupting her flight," Garrus continued.

"And then she went. . . ." they both chorused.

"Yodel-lay-kee-kie, Yodel-lay-kee koo, Yodel-lay-kee-kie, Yodel-lay-kee koo, Yodel-lay-kee-kie, Yodel-lay-kee koo. . . !"

Their wonderful serenade was interrupted when Ashley's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell back onto the ground, twitching violently.

"Shit! Ash, you okay?"

"N-no more," she begged. "Please. . . no more. . ."

"Fascinating reaction," Mordin muttered, helping her sit up again. "Seizure, no doubt caused by violent assault on aural senses." He cast a shrewd look at the other two. "Must explore possible chances of using as bioweapon in near future."

"This. . . this can't be real," Ashley continued to mumble to herself. "This isn't real! I'm probably dead, and this is hell. That's right! This is hell!"

She grabbed her knees and started rocking back and forth slowly. "This is all Shepard's fault! I was supposed to go to heaven, but the Commander corrupted me and turned me into a sinner! I told her we shouldn't be stealing so much, but she wouldn't listen! This isn't fair! I was a good girl! I ate my vegetables and told my prayers. I was a good. . ."

Her nervous breakdown was interrupted when Mordin swiftly jabbed a needle into her neck. "Mild sedative," he explained to the other two as Ashley's eyes swam and finally regained focus.

"Alright." She shook her head and sat up straighter. "Alright." She blinked hard at her old friends who were kneeling close to her. "First things first: where did that banjo come from?"

"Oh, that! One of the crew gave it to me," Garrus began. "I hid it in my. . ."

"I don't want to know!" Ashley interrupted him loudly. Then she sighed and closed her eyes, trying to make sense of everything that had happened so far. Since she was still missing a lot of the pieces, Ashley decided to fall back on the tried and tested Williams Family technique of solving problems.

When in doubt, blame the turian.

"Alright." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but it's safe to say this is all _your_ fault, Vakarian!"

"Me? What are you talking about, Wil. . ?"

He was interrupted as Ashley's hand shot forward and grabbed the collar of his armor, effortlessly pulling him almost nose to nose. At the same time, the Alliance marine reached into her armor and slowly drew a sixteen-inch long wicked-looking blade.

"Um. . . Ash," Shepard began. "I really don't think that's. . ."

"SHUT IT!" she snarled, and even Commander Jane Shepard, bane of the Reapers, found herself instinctively backing away from the demonic glint in the other woman's eyes. She slowly raised her hands and hid behind Mordin, leaving Garrus to his fate.

Ashley turned back to the nervous-looking turian. "Start talking," she ordered.

And Garrus Vakarian sang like his life depended on it. Which it did.

* * *

 ** _Twenty minutes later._**

"So, let's see if I'm getting this right. . ." Ashley began slowly.

"Liara. Sweet, gentle, nerdy Liara, who couldn't even string a sentence together without worrying that she'd offend someone, is now the biggest baddest information broker in the galaxy."

Garrus nodded.

"And you, Vakarian, formerly self-appointed Mako-fixer on the Normandy, are her right-hand man."

"Damn right, he nodded enthusiastically. "I'm the _Archangel_." He made sure to emphasize the last word with a guttural growl.

Ashley simply raised her eyebrow in an expression that practically screamed _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_. Then she continued, "About a year ago, you two retrieved Shepard's remains. . ."

"' _Remains_ ' is maybe too strong a word," Garrus said. "Shepard was mostly intact, though a bit frozen. . ."

"Fine, popsicle then!" Ashley snapped. Ignoring Shepard's slightly offended expression, she continued, "You two retrieved the popsicle that was Shepard and handed her over to these. . . Cerberus people."

"Yup."

"And they used some. . . I dunno. . . mystic juju to bring her back?"

"IT WAS SCIENCE!" Miranda bellowed from afar.

"BACK OFF, HEATHEN!" Ashley roared back. "So," she turned back to the other three. "They brought her back to do. . . what exactly?"

Shepard puffed out her chest. "To fight injustice across the gala. . . I mean, Reapers," she corrected herself when Ashley raised her knife threateningly. "To fight the Reapers."

"And these. . . Collectors. . . who just attacked the colony. They're working for the Reapers?"

"That's right."

"Okay," Ashley exhaled slowly. "Okay. I think I got it."

"You do?" Shepard asked hopefully.

"Of course I don't!" the marine snapped, jumping to her feet. "This has to be the biggest load of horsecrap I've ever heard! I mean, just what kind of a sucker do you take me for?"

"But it's the truth," Shepard cried. "We're being honest with you, Ash!"

"Hate to say it Commander, but your stories got more holes in it than a barrel of cheese," Ashley scoffed. "I mean, really. . . coming back from the dead? Even _you_ couldn't pull that one off!"

"Technically, she didn't pull it off. Miranda and her crazy team of scientists did," Garrus pointed out diplomatically. "And what is this 'cheese' you speak of?"

Ashley's eye twitched slightly in anger. "Look, all I'm saying is. . . if you can't tell me what you were doing for the last two years, that's fine with me Commander. I know what the word ' _classified_ ' means. Just don't make up these weird stories, okay?"

"Oh, for the love of. . ." Shepard swore. "You've got Garrus and a respected former member of the STG confirming my story! What more do you want, Ash?"

Ashley snorted in derision. "First off, I wouldn't trust Vakarian if he told me water was wet ("Hey!" Garrus protested). Secondly, as nice as the doctor is, he's not really the kind of guy whose word I'd take at face value." She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at Mordin, who was busy trying to convince a hysterical colonist that she showed early symptoms of scale-itch. In the distance, Shepard could make out a small mob of disgruntled colonists making their way towards him, armed with pitchforks.

"Oh hell," Shepard groaned. "Zaeed, get Mordin out of here! Now!"

"You've gotta be kidding me," Ashley muttered, watching the scarred mercenary drag the babbling salarian away. "You've got Zaeed- _goddamn_ -Massani on your team!? What kind of an outfit are you running, Shepard?"

"I've been trying to _tell_ you, Ash! But you're not listening to me. . ." she whined.

"That's 'cause you're not making any sense! Look," Ashley took a deep breath. "The way I see it, there're two options: either this whole story about you coming back to life is all bunkum or else. . . or else you're not really Shepard."

"What!?"

"You just admitted to spending a whole year being rebuilt by a bunch of devil-worshippers," Ashley pointed out. "How do I even know that you're. . . well, you?"

"Oh, give me a break!" Shepard moaned. "How the hell am I supposed to convince you about that?"

"Tell me something only the real Shepard would know," Ashley challenged.

"Why you paranoid little. . ." Shepard hissed, trembling in indignation. "Fine! Get over here!" She grabbed the other woman and dragged her a few feet away, just out of earshot of the waiting turian.

Garrus strained his internal ears to figure out what Shepard was saying in a low voice. Occasionally, he would catch a few snippets of conversation such as "And you said. . . then Liara agreed. . . and we went. . .", but they were much too random for him to discern anything useful. He did note however, that his visor readings were showing that Ashley's vitals were going haywire and he could see a deep red flush over her cheeks even from this distance.

"Alright! Alright!" Ashley finally shouted. "I believe you, Commander!"

"Had enough?" the Commander smirked. "Or do you want me to remind you of. . ."

"I get it! I get it! You don't have to remind me of anything!" she cut-across hastily. "I was wrong, okay? I was an idiot for not trusting you earlier, Skipper! Just forgive me!"

"Soooo. . . you're saying you trust me now?"

"I do! I do! I really, really, really do!" she nodded fervently.

Garrus made a mental note to ask Liara what exactly those two had been talking about. Anything that could make Ashley Williams this nervous was a weapon he really needed in his arsenal.

"Well, I guess I'll let this one go then," Shepard said magnanimously. "Just don't ever doubt me again."

"I won't. I really won't. I'd follow you blindfolded to the ends of the galaxy, Skipper!" In a low voice she added, "Hell. I'd follow a Reaper to the ends of the galaxy to keep _that_ a secret."

"Wonnnnnderful," Shepard purred.

"Glad you've come around, Williams," Garrus said, walking up to the two women.

"Yeah, well. . Skipper drives a hard bargain. Er. . . I mean, yeah. Yeah, I did," she shot him a weak smile. "So, uh. . . what happens now?"

"Now?" Shepard scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm. . . I hadn't really thought this far."

"We didn't really think it would be possible for us to convince you," Garrus explained in a slightly apologetic tone.

"Yeah, it's why we made that picture book and that poem."

"That was supposed to be a _poem_?" Ashley asked in horror.

"That's right," Shepard said brightly. "We came up with a few more. Wanna hear 'em?"

"NO!" Ashley exclaimed. "I mean. . . that won't be necessary, Skipper!" She took a deep breath. "So, when are you going to get back into the Alliance?"

Shepard and Garrus exchanged a meaningful look. "About that, Ash," the Commander said slowly. "I'm not going back to the Alliance just yet."

"Why not?" the marine asked in surprise.

"Because they're doing exactly jack shit to help the missing colonists," Shepard said frankly.

"That's not true," Ashley argued. "They sent me here to set up the GARDIAN lasers to defend this colony."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out," Garrus muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

Shepard sighed. She'd really hoped to approach this topic more gently, but subtlety wasn't exactly Ashley's strong point. There was no other option but to put her cards on the table. "Ash, listen," she began. "We think that the Alliance might've been compromised."

"What!?"

"We've got a strong reason to believe that someone is working very hard to ensure the Alliance doesn't pay much attention to these disappearing colonies. . ."

"Get out of here," Ashley scoffed. "You show up after two years working for the galaxy's shadiest information broker, surrounded by a bunch of ex-cons and weirdos and you're saying the _Alliance_ is acting suspicious?" She narrowed her eyes. "You sure you haven't forgotten where your loyalties lie, Skipper?"

"Don't you _dare_ question my loyalty to the Alliance, Williams," Shepard growled, taking a threatening step forward. All traces of humor and friendliness seemed to vanish from her eyes, replaced with a cold hardness Ashley had never seen before. For a moment she couldn't help but wonder if this was the last thing Commander Shepard's enemies saw before they were cut down in battle.

"I was born into the Navy, just like you. My family's served the Systems Alliance for generations. My father died doing his duty and I continued his legacy by devoting my entire life to the Navy. On Elysium, against Saren and the geth, all those times after I became a Council Spectre. . . I've fought and bled and killed in the name of the Alliance! Heck, I _died_ doing my duty to the Alliance!" Shepard's bright green eyes flashed in anger. "So unless you want to make an enemy out of me, I'd strongly suggest you never try calling me a traitor to my face ever again!"

"I didn't mean. . ." Ashley took a few steps back, feeling ashamed of her thoughtless outburst. "I'm sorry, Skipper. I shouldn't have said that."

Shepard seemed to relax significantly. "You really think I'm enjoying this, Ash? You honestly think I like working apart from the Alliance like this? The SA is my family, dammit! Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up. But I can't deny what's right in front of me, Ash. I just can't!"

"What d'you mean!?"

"Think about it, Williams," Garrus said quietly. "Of all the people in the Alliance, why were _you_ sent here to fix the guns?"

"I'm an Operations Chief whose spent years being posted on colonies. It makes perfect sense to send me here!"

"But you're not an engineer," he pointed out. "Calibrating the targeting matrix of those cannons requires some pretty heavy work. At the very least, you should've had a few engineers with you."

"I. . . well. . ."

"Then there's the fact that the Collectors specifically targeted this colony. The Broker's sources put their last known location somewhere in the Ismar Frontier. Then why did they go out of their way to come all the way here? To a colony that just happened to have one of Shepard's friends?"

"They could've just chosen to hit this place at random," Ashley argued.

"And the colony defenses just happened to be down at the time. Pretty convenient for them, don't you think?"

"I. . . that's. . .gah! Dammit, Vakarian! Where are you going with this?"

Garrus looked at her meaningfully. "When you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," he recited.

She goggled at him in surprise. "Since when did you start reading Arthur Conan Doyle?"

Garrus lightly buffed his talons against his chest plate. "Genius C-Sec detective, remember?"

Loath as she was to admit it, Ashley was slightly impressed. "I'm starting to see why you keep him around, Commander."

"Well, it sure isn't because of his looks."

"Hey!" he protested.

Shepard grinned before becoming serious again. "To be fair, we're not implying that the entire Alliance has given up on its values, Ash. We just think there're some corrupt factions in there who're pulling the strings."

"And until we find out who they are, there's no way I can simply return to the Alliance."

"This is just great," Ashley groaned. "Bad enough there are weird alien bugs going around kidnapping people, now we have to watch our backs around the Alliance! God! When did things get so fucked up?"

"It's not so bad," Garrus consoled her. "Liara's working tirelessly to ferret out the traitors within the Alliance. And we've got help from Councilor Anderson and Admiral Hackett as well."

"You've met with Admiral. . . I mean, Councilor Anderson?"

"We have," Shepard confirm. "He gave us his blessing to pursue the Collectors and offered to run interference for us. The Council reinstated my Spectre status as well."

"Damn. You should've just said that in the beginning," Ashley mumbled, her body relaxing visibly. "If Anderson trusts you, Skipper, then that's good enough for me."

"Glad to hear that," Shepard grinned. "Say, Ash. . ."

"Hate to bother you, Commander," Joker's crisp voice crackled over the comms. "But Miranda's insisting we get out of here before Alliance ships turn up to investigate the distress signals from the colony."

"Roger that, Joker. Tell Miranda to get the shuttle ready in ten minutes."

"Joker?" Ashley asked in surprise. "Is that really Joker?"

"One and only, Williams," the grinning voice of the Normandy's pilot rang through as Shepard patched the call through her omni-tool. "Glad to see, or y'know, hear that you're okay. And by the way, you're totally welcome for my awesome flying that brought the Commander here in time to save your ass. No need to thank me or anything."

"I'll remember that," Ashley grinned.

"On the other hand, I totally wouldn't mind if you bought me a drink everyday for the rest of my life to show your eternal gratitude. Oh wait, someone else wants to talk to you." A second later, the cultured voice of Dr Chakwas rang through. "Glad to see you're doing well, Ashley dear."

"Chakwas, you're there too!? What the hell, Commander!?"

"We've also got a new Normandy," Shepard smiled. "And we're planning to get Tali on board sometime soon."

"You're seriously getting the band together, huh Skipper?" Ashley shook her head. "But that means I gotta ask: why haven't you asked me to join you yet?"

"Because I already know what your answer will be. But I'll ask you anyway: do you wanna come and fight the collectors with me, Ash? Just like old times?"

The marine shuffled her feet slightly. "Don't get me wrong, Shepard. I respect the hell out of you. Heck, you've done more for me than anyone ever has! But if I walk away from here, after everything that's happened. . . Alliance brass won't hesitate to court-martial me. There're a lot of folks out there who still can't stomach the idea of a Williams rising up the ranks; and I've gotta think about my sisters. . ."

"I know, Ash. Believe me, I know." Shepard laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm not blaming you in the slightest."

Ashley gave her a tight smile. "Thanks, Skipper."

Shepard returned the smile. "Garrus, could you give us a minute?"

Shepard sighed as he walked away. "Truth be told, I'm actually glad that you're not coming along. I feel guilty enough as it is taking Garrus and the others into this deathtrap with me."

"What d'you mean?" Ashley frowned.

"This is a suicide mission, Ash," the Commander explained. "No ship that has ever gone through the Omega 4 relay has ever returned, and that's exactly where we have to go if we want to take the fight to the collectors. Heck, for all we know there might a Sovereign-class Reaper waiting for us on the other side!

"That's why I need you to stay safe. I need someone willing to pick up where I left off if we don't make it."

Ashley could see where she was going with this. "Oh no. . ."

"Yes. Ash, if we don't make it back. . ."

"Don't, Skipper. Just don't."

". . . if we don't return from the Omega 4 Relay," Shepard overrode her objections. "I need you to get in touch with Liara. She'll have copies of all the information we have on the Reapers. Get them to Anderson and the Council, and make sure everybody is ready for what's coming."

"Shepard, you don't what you're talking about," Ashley said forcefully. "I'm just a dumb grunt. I'm not like you! I can't. . ."

The Commander reached out and grabbed both her shoulders. "Two years ago, when we were on shore leave at the Citadel, you asked me why I let you aboard the Normandy even though a posting like this was way above your grade. Remember that?"

"Well. . . yeah. . ."

"But I didn't answer you back then."

"Yeah. You were distracted cause Wrex was daring one of our crewmen to swallow a live pyjack whole."

"Don't remind me," Shepard choked, and Ashley felt a spike of fear shoot into her heart as the Commander turned green. It would be just like the infamous Williams' luck to have this day end with her being puked upon. Fortunately for her, Shepard still had the same legendary self-control as before.

"As I was saying," the redhead cleared her throat. "I couldn't give you an answer back then, but I can now."

"Back when we met on Eden prime, when you were going up against all those geth by yourself. . . do you know what you reminded me of?"

As Ashley shook her head, Shepard smiled. "It was me."

"Back then when I saw you fighting like that: outnumbered, outgunned, all alone. . . you reminded me of what I was like on Elysium. I saw a part of me in you, Ash. That's why I brought you along on the Normandy."

"So you see, Ash. You're wrong when you say you're nothing like me. As far as I'm concerned, you _are_ me. That's why I'm not afraid of going into a suicide mission: because I know that if something goes wrong, you'll be there to keep the fight going ."

Ashley felt her throat tighten at the sincerity in her CO's eyes. "Damn, you got a way with words, Skipper," she swallowed slightly, before looking her friend dead in the eye. "I won't let you down."

"I know," Shepard smiled. The two marines then embraced each other before making their way to the shuttle that had landed nearby.

"Take care, Ash," Shepard said, getting aboard the ship.

"You too, Skipper."

Garrus, who had been patiently waiting by the door, moved forward. "When you're finished with your mission report, make sure to hand it in directly to Admiral Hackett," he advised. "I'll make sure he knows to expect you."

"Sure thing."

"And if you need anything, get in touch with Barla Von at the Citadel. He'll make sure to pass on any messages you have."

"Right. . . and Vakarian?"

"Yeah."

"Take care of the Skipper for me."

"With my life," he promised.

"And. . ." Ashley hesitated, before moving to give him a small hug. "Take care of your scaly ass as well. Try to, y'know. . . duck every once in a while." She looked pointedly at the heavily damaged areas of his chest plate.

"Not sure turians know how to duck," he gave his usual cocky grin. "But I'll improvise. See you later, Williams."

"You too." Ashley Williams watched as the shuttle took off into the sky, growing smaller and smaller until it was no more than a bright speck.

* * *

 **AN: The original draft had a pretty angsty conversation between Shepard and Ashley, but then I figured there were so many of them on this site. So I decided to do the Horizon confrontation in typical "Into the Fray" style :)  
**

 **If Ashley seemed to have been convinced a little easily in this one, it's mostly because:**

 **1) She never saw the sick experiments Cerberus conducted using the rachni and Kahoku was never tortured to death. Hence, she doesn't have any negative connotations about Cerberus.**

 **2) She never saw any official reports about Shepard working with the 'enemy' (thanks in part to Liara and Hackett). So once again, she's unbiased when she meets Shepard on Horizon.**

 **3) Accusing a superior officer of disloyalty is not something that is done on a whim. There's no way Shepard isn't going to defend herself vigorously (unlike the games), and if she's got a Spacer/War Hero background she can make some pretty compelling points.**

 **4) Shepard's got dirt on her. Hint: Re-read chapter 2.**

 **Plus, I like to believe that Ashley, while a bit rough around the edges, is a decent human being who wouldn't go against the CO whose done so much for her career on mere hearsay.  
**

 **This chapter also explores another important theme that I wish to cover in this story: friendship between female characters. Maybe its just me, but I've always felt that the relationship between FemShep and the other females weren't given much development in the games.**

 **I mean, Garrus is the bestie regardless of Shepard's gender or sexual orientation. Liara is more of an LI either way. But apart from Tali, there isn't much of camaraderie between the female characters. (Not until the Citadel DLC, anyway)  
**

 **I plan on addressing this to the best of my ability in this series: Miranda, Ashley, Jack, Samara. . . their friendship with FemShep, their motivations and their reasons for following her will be dealt with as much as they can.**

 **Next up: Aethyta reveals her reasons for coming to Omega. Meanwhile, allies and enemies alike deal with the aftermath of Horizon.  
**

 **Stay tuned :)**


	20. Beyond the Horizon

**AN: First off, I'd like to apologize to all my readers for making you guys wait so long for an update. But this chapter was particularly hard for me to nail down. You're about to find out why.  
**

* * *

 ** _Present. Omega._**

"Ah!" Aethyta exclaimed, knocking back her fifth glass of hard liquor. "Damn! Now _that_ hit the spot!"

Aria raised a painted eyebrow at the other asari. "Going a bit hard on the bottle, aren't we?"

"Eh. What can I say, this rock's got some pretty good drinks," the Matriarch shrugged. "I suppose even a dump like Omega has a few bright spots to its name."

"Glad you feel that way."

The iciness in the Queen of Omega's voice was not lost on Aethyta. "Cheer up, Purple Tits," she smirked.

It took all the restraint that Aria had built up over the centuries of dealing with the scum of the galaxy to not blast the older asari half-way across the room. "Spare me the crap, Aethyta!" she snapped. "What the hell are you doing on my station?"

"Oh, come on! Can't a girl just drop in to say hello to an old friend?"

Aria snorted derisively. "First off, you're a few centuries too old to be calling yourself a 'girl'. Second, that whole 'drunk moron' act of yours might be able to fool those dumb bitches on Thessia, but it won't work on me."

"Alright, alright. You got me there." Aethyta threw up her hands half-heartedly. "I'll admit that this isn't completely a social visit."

She took a deep breath and looked the Queen of Omega square in the eye. "Lismenea sent me here to talk to you."

"Oh? And just what could someone like me possibly do for our beloved Councilor?" Aria asked coolly.

Aethyta sighed and shook her head. "Athame's saggy tits, woman! Can't you cut her a break every now and then?"

"Depends. Have _you_ forgiven Benezia for what she did to you now that the old crone is dead?" She snorted at the silent glare the older asari shot her. "Yeah. Didn't think so."

"It's not the same thing and you _know_ that! Lismeanea had her reasons. . ."

" _Everyone_ has reasons," Aria retorted sharply. "But they're not always good ones." She sighed and waved a hand dismissively. "If you came all the way to Omega plead on her behalf, Aethyta, then you've wasted your time. And mine."

"I came all the way to Omega to ask for your _help_ ," Aethyta said firmly. "Lismenea _needs_ your help, Aria."

"Why?"

"Cause she's way in over her head this time," she replied bluntly. "Sure, our girl's never been one to shy away from getting on Thessia's bad side. But this time. . . this time she's dived headfirst into some pretty dangerous crap."

"Thessia's politics are hardly of any concern to me," Aria scoffed.

"But Lismenea is," Aethyta pointed out. "She's the father of your child. If nothing else, you gotta think about Liselle. . ."

"Don't," Aria growled dangerously. "Don't even think about bringing _my_ daughter into all this!" She took a deep breath to regain her composure. "And just what the hell does all this have to do with _you_ , anyway? Why are _you_ here, sticking your neck out like this? And please don't tell me you're doing this for Lismenea or me, Aethyta. We both know that you're hardly the saint you pretend to be."

Aethyta didn't even bother to refute that accusation. She simply sighed. "Cause my Liara's right in the middle of this mess."

She took another deep swig of her drink. "You know something, Purple Tits: I'm nearly a thousand years old. Live that long, and you've got a list of regrets as long a Thresher Maw on Tuchanka. But you know what's my greatest regret?"

Aria said nothing, merely staring calculatingly at the other asari.

"It's that I let that bitch Benezia walk away with my daughter without putting up a fight."

"For a long time, I used to blame Nezzie for everything that happened. It was easier that way. Hell, I came home one night to find my woman and one week old daughter missing from my home. No note or nothing. Hardly my fault, right?"

"That's where I was wrong. It shouldn't have mattered whose fault it was. I should never have let Nezzie get away with what she did. I should've followed her back to Thessia. I should've raised a huge fuss and demanded to have my kid back, Nezzie and the Council be damned. Athame curse me, I should've at least put up a fight."

Aethyta sighed heavily, looking more weary and tired than Aria ever remembered seeing her. She suddenly seemed to look and sound every bit of her age, as though the burden of a thousand years of life had finally caught up with her.

"Now. . . well, now Nezzie's dead, Athame rest her soul. And my baby girl's all alone in this world. And I don't even have the guts to tell her otherwise." She gave a hollow sort of laugh. "You know I spent the last year working as a bartender on Nos Astra just to be able to catch a glimpse of her? That's how fucking desperate I am. But I still didn't have the quad to go up to her and tell her who I am."

Aria continued to remain silent, walking over to stand near the balcony of her apartment. Beneath her was the eerily beautiful view of Omega's nightlife, with a million lights floating in space, like embers in a fire. "What do you want from me, Aethyta?" she finally asked.

"I want you to stop acting like a freaking Ice Queen, Aria." There was a steel in her voice that even she had never heard before. "I need you to stop pretending that all this is somehow beneath your notice. Like all the crap Lismenea's putting herself through is beneath you. . ."

"It _is_ beneath me!" Aria snarled. "Omega doesn't _care_ about Citadel politics, or its politicians."

"But you do," Aethyta replied bluntly. "You always have." She drained her glass. "And you should. A storm's coming, Aria. If even half the things Lismenea's told me so far are true, the coming storm's going to throw this entire galaxy into chaos." She gripped her glass tightly. "And I don't care if I have to take on all of Thessia by myself, I'll be damned before I lose my kid to it!"

The Queen of Omega said nothing, merely gazing out of the window at Omega's skyline. In the years to come she would frequently look back on this day and ponder upon the prophetic nature of Aethyta's words. And more than anything, she would remember just how little justice they did to the true horror that was unleashed upon their galaxy.

* * *

 _ **Location unknown. Cerberus HQ.**_

Bright blue cybernetic eyes coldly perused the holographic document scrolling before them.

"I trust this report contains everything of importance, Miranda?"

"Yes, sir," the Cerberus Operative confirmed.

The Illusive Man exhaled a small cloud of smoke. "Excellent."

A flick of his finger sent the report scrolling even faster. "The entire operation took far longer to execute than anticipated," he observed. "What went wrong?"

"Our intelligence was completely off the mark, sir," Miranda answered bluntly. "The Collectors on that colony easily numbered in the hundreds."

"And yet our research team managed to collect only a few intact samples of collector technology." There was the barest hint of a rebuke in the Illusive Man's voice.

To her credit, his deputy didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "We accomplished the mission exactly as per your instructions, sir. Protecting the colonists from the collectors was our top priority, followed by ensuring Commander Shepard's survival. We succeeded on both counts."

The Illusive Man acknowledged her reply with a thoughtful nod. It was just as well, he thought, that nobody knew how little he actually cared about the fates of the colonists in question. As always, his eye was on the bigger picture, and if a few thousand colonists had to be sacrificed to ensure humanity's dominance in the galaxy, then so be it. But given the extent to which Miranda was invested in the mission, it was unlikely she would appreciate such a Machiavellian sentiment.

"Speaking of Shepard, how would you rate the Commander's performance during the mission, Operative Lawson?"

Miranda paused for a moment before answering. "From what I personally observed on the field, I would say that we've actually underestimated her abilities by quite a margin. Shepard's tactical prowess and leadership are simply beyond anything I've ever seen. The reports of her previous missions simply don't do enough justice to her skills."

"So you believe that Project Lazarus exceeded our expectations, then?"

For the first time in a while, the Illusive Man saw his subordinate look a bit uncertain. "I'm not sure if I can take credit for Shepard's performance, sir. While I admit the cybernetic enhancements I designed assisted her considerably, it would be premature to attribute our success to the technology alone."

She frowned slightly. "It's hard to explain. Shepard. . . she's different from what I expected her to be, what we _all_ expected her to be. Naturally, she's an extremely accomplished soldier. But watching her fight against that creature. . . that Harbinger. . . it was unlike anything I've ever seen. She seemed almost. . . superhuman. Like a force of nature given physical form. . ."

It took a great deal of the Illusive Man's willpower to resist quirking an eyebrow at this unusually flowery statement. The faint note of awe and borderline admiration in Miranda's voice did not go unnoticed by him either. The Illusive Man was suddenly thankful for his decision to keep Miranda Lawson out of the scope of his plans. If even his most trusted subordinates could fall prey to Jane Shepard's charisma so easily, then it was best for him to play his cards as close to the chest as possible.

"Very well," he said. "It would seem that everything is going as planned for now. Rest assured I shall deal with our intelligence lapse as soon as possible. In the meantime, we can rely upon our ally, the Shadow Broker, for information."

"Sir."

"Before you go Ms Lawson, I must ask you about one final item."

"Sir?"

The Illusive Man took a deep pull of his cigarette. "How are your attempts at recruiting Commander Shepard doing so far? Has she shown any interest in joining our cause?"

For the second time in so many minutes, the Illusive Man was taken by surprise when Miranda Lawson squirmed, actually squirmed in her place. "I'm afraid. . . it isn't going so well, sir."

"Excuse me?"

The brunette fidgeted further under his frosty gaze. "Shepard has proven to be surprisingly resistant to our attempts at recruiting her. I have, of course, been impressing upon her the importance of Cerberus' role in the galaxy, but. . . well. . ."

The Illusive Man let out a gentle breath of smoke. Really, would wonders never cease? Bad enough that both his most trusted operatives had fallen prey to Shepard's charms, now she was openly admitting to failure as well.

Just how hard could it be to recruit Jane Shepard to their cause? Honestly, from the way Miranda was acting, you'd think they were a shady group of satanic worshiping cultists instead of an organization with an honest interest in promoting human interests across the galaxy!

The leader of Cerberus took another deep pull of his cigarette. "Very well," he finally said. "Please continue to work on her, Miranda. I trust I don't have to remind you of the importance of getting Commander Shepard on our side, especially after what you've seen on Horizon."

"Of course not, sir."

He nodded. "That will be all, Operative Lawson." And the QEC shut down.

Once again alone in his office, the Illusive Man contemplated the newest turn of events. While the victory against the Collectors on Horizon was very welcome news, it had nevertheless fallen short of the perfect outcome he had envisaged for this scenario.

Namely, the survival of Ashley Williams.

The Illusive Man's plans for Jane Shepard all hinged around a single element: control. He wanted to have absolute control over what was easily the only real weapon humanity had against the Reapers. To that end, he had spent the last two years laying the necessary groundwork within the Alliance, doing his best to cut the Commander off from all possible avenues of support.

But it had all been for naught. Against all odds, her turian teammate had gone and started working for the Shadow Broker, turning into a very unexpected and unwelcome source of support for her. Even more surprising was the fact that the meddlesome alien had actually convinced Shepard to work with the very man who'd tried to sell her corpse to her greatest enemies. All of Cerberus' efforts to discover whatever leverage he had over Shepard had yielded nothing.

The Illusive Man had hoped that the battle on Horizon would end with the demise or capture of Ashley Williams, thus making the fight against the Collectors more personal for the Commander. But once again his hopes had been in vain. Not only did Shepard manage to save half the colony and her old teammate, she had also apparently convinced Williams to take her side, gaining yet another ally.

And if Miranda's behavior was any indication, Williams wouldn't be the last one to join Shepard's ranks.

He absentmindedly put out his cigarette. What they needed more than anything right now was for someone to get into Shepard's inner ranks, to get close enough to form a seemingly genuine connection with her before attempting to recruit her into Cerberus. And there were very few people aboard the Normandy SR2 who could pull it off.

Jacob was out of the question, and Shepard avoided Kelly Chambers like the plague (if his operative's reports were to be believed). Kenneth Donnelly and Gabriella Daniels were too much in awe of the Commander to even consider such a task, and Jeff Moreau and Karin Chakwas were much too close to Shepard to be trusted.

That only left Miranda Lawson herself. But would she agree to using such manipulative tactics even after she'd personally seen and been impressed by the true extent of Shepard's skill?

The Illusive Man sighed. This would all be so much easier if not for Miranda's pride. Why she had to be so insecure despite all her achievements was something he would never understand. As bad as her experience with Henry Lawson had been, surely enough time had passed that she could. . .

The leader of Cerberus suddenly bolted upright in his chair, his mind running furiously. In order to gain Shepard's trust, Miranda would have to display a moment of genuine human vulnerability.

What if that vulnerability didn't have to be manufactured? What if it could be induced?

Quickly pulling up a console, he began to type out a small message bearing his own unique encryption key. Then he sent it and sat back to wait.

While waiting for the inevitable personal call, his mind quickly ran over all the details. It was a huge risk he was taking, one that could backfire with potentially disastrous consequences. But the Illusive Man hadn't gotten to where he was by playing it safe.

There was also a chance. . . a small chance that he could set things up so as to get rid of a rather meddlesome alien. The thought being able to kill two birds with one stone filled him with a sort of grim delight.

A few minutes later, he was brought out of his reverie as the QEC predictably fired up. The Illusive Man quickly schooled his features into a careful mask of neutrality. The individual at the other end was just as intelligent and ruthless as himself, meaning that he had only one shot at getting this right.

"Mr Lawson," he began smoothly. "Thank you for speaking with me at such short notice."

Cold blue eyes, so very identical to the ones he had been speaking to a scant few minutes ago, bored into his own. "Illusive Man," he said. "You claim to know something about a long-lost investment of mine. Is this true?"

The leader of Cerberus gave a small smile. "As a matter of fact, it is."

* * *

Unfortunately for the sentient species of the galaxy, the Illusive Man wasn't alone in making nefarious plans. Millions of light-years away, drifting in the void of space, an even more ancient and diabolical being was contemplating the events of Horizon.

The idea of being forced to retreat, of facing something other than absolute victory was a completely foreign concept to Harbinger. Certainly in the past there had been moments, brief moments, where it had faced challenges from stubborn organics refusing to accept their destiny. Defiance in the face of the inevitable had always been an extremely senseless trait of organics in general.

But this. . . this was completely different.

For the trillionth time, Harbinger's limitless mind replayed the events of that day on Horizon. The Collector forces had clearly had the element of surprise on their side, they had the numbers, superior technology and Harbinger himself directing the battle personally.

And yet they failed. Despite having every single advantage at their side, every factor accounted for, the collectors had failed to capture all the humans on Horizon. And this was because of only one reason:

 _ **Shepard. . .**_

Once again she had thwarted their plans, once again she had defied them. Despite Harbinger's personal intervention, Shepard had managed to disrupt the harvesting of all the organics on that colony. Despite facing the wrath of the greatest of the Reapers, she had fought back and actually forced Harbinger to retreat.

 _ **Unacceptable. . .**_

Had a being such a Harbinger been capable of expressing its emotions, its rage would have obliterated an entire planet. But such crude displays of power were beneath one who had achieved perfection.

After all, Shepard had only won a battle. She hadn't even come close to winning the war.

 **"This form is fragile,"** Harbinger intoned. **"Being preparation of a new form."**

In a matter of moments, the entire engineering section of the ship began to shift and morph. Dozens of humans in the storage pods were liquefied and their remains were pumped into a single, much larger pod. Collector drones scurried to and fro across the floor, as they prepared to create a new vessel worthy of their master. A vessel that was certain to be the end of their foe.

Harbinger's eyes glowed malevolently as it supervised the work of its minions. The next time it came face to face with Shepard would undoubtedly be her last.

* * *

 _ **Two days later. Daleon.  
**_

"Garrus, please. . ."

"Liara. . ."

"I understand that you're upset. . ."

"Upset?" the turian growled incredulously. "Liara, 'upset' is for when Shepard steals one of my kills on the field. I'm _way_ beyond upset right now!"

Despite the lightyears of distance between them, Liara's frustrated sigh was clearly audible over the transmission from his visor. "By the Goddess," she whispered. "Garrus, for the last time: I'm _sorry_ about not being able to alert you to Ashley's presence on Horizon. But you have to consider. . ."

"Consider what? That you had more important things to do than tell us that one of our friends was on a colony that we _knew_ was going to be hit by the collectors?"

"Garrus. . ."

But Liara's pleas fell on deaf ears as it seemed that Garrus was only getting started with his rant. In his defense, he had been bottling it up for a week now, not wanting to put Liara at risk by contacting her aboard the Normandy. It was only when they made a pit stop at a volus colony for refueling and resupply that he was able to sneak off to an abandoned apartment to talk to her. "On top of that, you couldn't even pin down the number of hostiles correctly. Spirits Liara, we were practically outnumbered ten to one!"

"Garrus. . ."

"I mean, what's the damn point of you sitting in the Shadow Broker's chair if you can't even warn us about the important things?"

The silence that followed that statement was practically deafening. Garrus Vakarian was suddenly thankful that their current conversation was set at audio only. He didn't have to be psychic to know that the glare that Liara was shooting her console would have made even Harbinger nervous.

"Are you quite finished?"

Garrus had to fight the urge to spring to attention and say "Yes ma'am!" like from his C-Sec Academy days. The cold authority in her voice reminded him too much of the time they'd faced Benezia on Noveria. He made up for it for rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah. . . that was a little. . . uh. . . excessive. Sorry about that."

"Apology accepted." Then she sighed again. "Garrus, believe me: I've never been angrier with myself than when I realized how badly I failed you all. . ."

The turian really couldn't help himself. "Not even when you got yourself trapped in a bubble under a volcano on Therum."

"Garrus. . ." she began dangerously.

"Just kidding," he added hastily, throwing up his taloned hands in surrender.

Liara cleared her throat. "As I was saying: I have never been angrier with myself than when I realized how badly I'd failed you all. I would do anything to do things differently if I could. But you know better than anyone else that even the Broker's resources have their limits. There's simply no way for me to account for everything, especially when dealing with something as unpredictable as the Reapers."

"I know, I know," Garrus sighed. "I shouldn't have said that. It's just. . . I keep thinking back to how close we came to losing everything that day. You know, until the end I was convinced that we were too late and that Ashley was already on the Collectors' ship when it escaped."

"And Shepard. . . Spirits, Liara. . . Shepard came so close getting killed." His fists clenched. "I was right there and. . . I could only watch as Harbinger attacked her and I. . ."

"Garrus. Garrus. Garrus!" Liara's firm tone snapped him out of his agitated state. "You need to relax. . ."

"I know. It's just. . . whenever I think about Shepard screaming and struggling against Harbinger's grip. . ."

"I understand," Liara said gently. "I can only imagine how hard it must have been." She sighed. "How is Shepard doing?"

"She's fine," Garrus said. "She was shaken up for a while, but I guess anyone would be after going toe to toe with a Reaper. Hell, anyone else in her place would have had a complete breakdown. But Shepard came back, and she came back strong!" His mandibles flared in a smile as he recalled the way she'd led their counterattack. Even Miranda seemed impressed with her, and that's saying something!"

"I can imagine. And speaking of Harbinger, you were saying. . ."

"That he was stronger? Faster? More powerful somehow?" Garrus shook his head. "I honestly couldn't tell you if that really was the case, or it's just my memories getting weaker."

"But you think it's the former?"

"I do," he answered after a moment of hesitation. "I know there's no way to be completely sure, but I have a feeling in my gizzard that Harbinger's a lot stronger than he previously was."

"Maybe he was holding back in the previous timeline," Liara suggested.

"True. Or maybe. . . well, I dunno. . ."

"What?"

Garrus sighed. "Sometimes," he said slowly. "I get this feeling that my coming back. . . all the things I've done. . . their effects have had much greater and more unexpected consequences on the galaxy at large than we guessed."

"Garrus, you're not possibly suggesting. . ."

"I know it sounds crazy, Liara. But think about it a little. You've seen my memories yourself. How many things have completely changed from before?"

"I would say they had changed for the better."

"So do I," he conceded. "But there are moments when I still feel that everything I've done is. . . _wrong_ somehow. That I'm meddling with something big. . . something beyond my understanding."

There was silence for a few minutes. Then Liara spoke, "Garrus. Have you heard about something known as the Butterfly Effect?"

"Butterfly?" He scratched his mandible in thought. "Isn't that some kind of insect found on earth that makes all human women scream very loudly and run for cover?"

"No, those are cockroaches. Butterflies are nowhere nearly as disgusting." Garrus could practically hear the slight quaver in her voice. "Anyways," she cleared her throat. "The humans have a concept known as the butterfly effect, which states that sometimes even the smallest of changes in a series of circumstances can have much larger and varied effects down the line."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that for all we know, you might not even be responsible for everything's that happened so far."

"What!?"

"Think about it," Liara urged him. "Think about how it all began. What was the point where everything changed?"

"Well, I told you about the truth about me. . ."

"No. Go back further."

"We saved Ashley and the salarians on Virmire. . ."

"Still further."

Garrus was beginning to get annoyed now. "Wrex and I saved Tali and brought evidence implicating Saren. . ."

"You're not going back far enough," Liara said impatiently. "Think Garrus: what was it that enabled you do all this? Where did it all begin?"

Then it hit him. "I traveled back in time," he said softly.

"Precisely," Liara said in a triumphant manner. "You traveled backwards, across space and time itself. Don't you realize how unusual that is? Don't you see how something so impossible could have had its own effects on the galaxy?"

"So you're saying that the very act of me coming back is causing all this to happen?"

Liara exhaled softly. "I honestly cannot say. Whatever happened to you is so unprecedented that there is nothing more we can do except to theorize. But I will say this: there is no way that something as incredible as time travel could occur without there being some kind of trade off."

For some reason this actually made Garrus feel a lot better. The knowledge that he might not be completely responsible for everything seemed to take a rather heavy burden off his shoulders. "Spirits," he sighed. "Things can never be simple now, can they?"

"When it comes to us, they rarely are," Liara agreed. "But they are about to get better. I actually have some good news for you."

"Yeah? About what?"

"Mierin just returned with the latest reconnaissance reports." There was a hint of excitement in her voice. "We're almost ready to move."

It took Garrus a moment to understand what she was talking about. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," she replied. "Mierin, Sensat and Monteague have spent the last few months scouting the entire location. We've got all the information we need. All that's left is to time this correctly."

Garrus narrowed his eyes. "Liara, are you sure about this? An operation like this one could be very dangerous."

"I know. That's why Butler is offering to lead it personally."

"That's not my point. Liara, something like this is exactly the opportunity Cerberus needs to uncover your identity. It could expose you and Feron, and the rest of the Broker's organization."

"Not if everything goes according to plan," she argued.

"You of all people should know that things rarely go according to plan," Garrus pointed out. "Liara, it's not too late. We can put this on hold until we're done with Collectors. . ."

"It will be too late by then!" she protested.

"But we don't even know if he can help us. Or if he'll even _want_ to!"

"All the more reason for us to do this. Garrus, please," Liara begged. "This could turn out to be just the advantage we need against the Reapers. And we need every single one we can get!"

The turian sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, Liara was right. For all they knew, this could potentially give them an edge against the Reapers. And after the display he'd seen Harbinger put on a few days ago, they needed every single weapon they could get their hands on. Even if it was fairly reluctant one.

"Alright," he conceded. "You're on. Make your preparations and be ready to move whenever Cerberus lets their guard down. Just. . . be careful, okay?"

"I will," Liara promised. "Thank you, Garrus. And please, take care of Shepard and yourself."

"I will. Archangel out."

The call disconnected. Garrus spent the next few moments wiping away any trace of him having been there. Then he proceeded to make his way out the electronic doors as they opened with a swish. . .

. . . and stopped dead in his tracks.

Standing before him was the extremely angry figure of Miranda Lawson, the barrel of her heavy pistol pointing right at his head.

* * *

 **AN: Cliffhanger time. dun-dun-dun.  
**

 **Now as I'm sure you've all realized, the conversations in this chapter have set the plot, not just for the rest of the story, but the rest of the series as well. Pay close attention, as the repercussions of these conversations and decisions are going to be felt wayyy into the future.  
**

 **Oh, and most important of all: Harbinger gets an upgrade. I figured if Shepard and co can upgrade their weapons and skills, then so should their enemies. Not to mention that it would be illogical for an AI like the Reapers to keep using the same method of attack over and over again.**

 **Next up:** ** **It's Lawson vs Vakarian, as o** ur beloved turian finds himself in unexpected danger at the hands of a friend who has no reason to trust him. Will TIM's cunning plan come to fruition?  
**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	21. Civil War

**AN: Damn, I was really hoping to get this out within a couple of weeks, but the last month has been pretty busy. Hope you folks don't mind the wait :)**

* * *

 ** _Present. Daleon._**

Despite their predatorial origins, turians were not nearly as aggressive as krogan. A lifetime of compulsory military service and a culture built around the concept of discipline ensured that most of them had enough control to keep a tight reign on their instincts when the situation called for it.

This was something Garrus Vakarian was actually grateful for. The last thing he needed to do was instinctively injure or main the person currently pointing a weapon at him.

"Lawson," he began neutrally, doing his best to keep his voice level. "What are you doing here?"

"Vakarian." There was a slight tremor in her voice that he had never heard before. "You've gone too far!"

Garrus slowly raised his arms in the air, fully aware that this wasn't the usual Miranda Lawson he was dealing with. There was something different about her. She almost seemed. . . agitated. Her vitals were off the charts, a far cry from the cool and calm demeanor she usually displayed. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. . ."

"Shut it!" she snarled, advancing upon him. "You don't get to talk yourself out of this, turian! Not _this_ time!"

Garrus slowly backed away. "Lawson," he began, speaking in the same low, calm tone of voice that he had used so many times during his C-Sec days. "I swear, I have no idea what you're talking about. If you'll just put down the gun. . ."

"And let you walk away? Oh no, I don't bloody well think so!" She paused a beat. "You're going to pay for putting my sister in danger!"

"What!?" Garrus' mind started running a mile a minute. "Lawson, what're you. . ."

"Still trying to play the fool, _turian_?" Miranda's glare became, if possible, even more venomous. "Or did you really think I wouldn't be able to figure it out? Did you really expect me to believe that my father just _happened_ to find out about Oriana after I've kept her hidden for close to twenty years!?"

"Lawson, listen to me!" Garrus said urgently. "I had nothing to do with. . ."

"I said, shut it!"

"Lawson, I'm telling you. I wasn't the one who. . ."

Garrus moved like lightning, his left arm shooting out to knock her pistol aside. Unfortunately for him, Miranda was faster.

And a biotic to boot.

Her left cross caught him squarely across his face. Normally, a blow like that wouldn't have done more than make him stumble, but the biotic energy wrapped around her fist increased the impact several times over, sending him flying into the nearby sofa.

Garrus groaned as he tried to scramble up from the floor, stars blinking before his eyes. "Lawson, wait! Think about what you're doing. . ."

"I already have," Miranda said, casually throwing aside the furniture in her way as she stalked towards him.

"If you kill me," he panted. "Shepard will never work with Cerberus ever again. She'll. . ."

"Shepard will never abandon the mission," Miranda said firmly. "After everything she's seen on Horizon, she's never going to leave the colonists to their fate. She'll finish this mission without me if she has to. Unfortunately for _you_ , Vakarian," she narrowed her eyes as a wave of her omni-tool caused the apartment doors to shut firmly behind her.

"You're not going to be around to see it."

* * *

While the battle raged on the other side of the colony, Commander Jane Shepard was doing what she does best.

Sleeping after an extended session of Galaxy of Fantasy Online.

She lay sprawled across her queen-sized bed, limbs stuck out at an awkward angle. However, for once she wasn't snoring loud enough to awaken a hibernating thresher maw.

This was because tonight, Shepard's sleep was haunted by nightmares.

She hung desperately from the rafters, trying her best to hold on with only one hand. Her other arm ended in a stump which she cradled to her torso.

And above her stood the Illusive Man, his cold face lit by an eerie red glow.

"There is no escape," he said quietly. "Don't make me destroy you."

She slowly backed away.

"Shepard, you do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to realize your power." His blue cybernetic eyes glowed even brighter. "Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy. Come to the dark side, Shepard!"

"I'll never join you!" Shepard snarled in anger.

"But we have cake," he insisted.

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I love cake!" Shepard screamed. "But I'll never join you, you monster!"

"Ah, but you must. For you see, Shepard," the Illusive Man's evil smirk widened. " _I_ am your father!"

"No," she gasped. "That's. . . that's not true."

"I'm afraid it is, honey." Hannah Shepard materialized out of nowhere.

"Mom!?"

She gave her daughter a wan smile. "What can I say, I've always had a thing for bad boys."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The dream changed.

She was sitting alone in her cabin on the SR2, overlooking a window on the side. Her own reflection looked back at her as the stars streaked past, slowly becoming clearer as she continued to watch. The slight red tinge in her normally green eyes began to glow brighter, cracks appeared along the side of her face like molten lines of lava on the ground, and an all-encompassing hatred like she had never felt before. . .

"GAAHHHH. . . OW!"

Shepard groaned as she finally returned to the land of the living, her head resting against the floor while her body still lay on the bed. "Ow. My face," she moaned softly as she finally slid off the covers and slowly sat up on the floor.

"What in the name of holy vorchas in heat was _that_ all about?" she mumbled, before grimacing at the image her words conjured.

Shepard gave a huge yawn and got to her feet, scratching her behind. Curse Joker and his stupid cocktail recommendations! Oh, try the Bina, Commander. It's a volus specialty. The next time they lost a ship, she was going to abandon his crippled ass and grab the first safety pod she could find! See how he liked it. . .

She gave another huge yawn and scratched some more. "Hey EDI. Where the hell is everybody?"

* * *

As the ships' resident AI, the Enhanced Defense Intelligence, or EDI as she had come to identify herself, saw and heard everything. The Normandy SR2 was her vessel, her body. . . and nothing that happened aboard it escaped her observation.

It was fortunate perhaps that there were so many things for her to observe.

Though incapable of feeling human emotions, EDI did occasionally experience a sensation of something akin to fascination whenever she observed the organics aboard the Normandy. She watched as the usually gruff mercenary in the lowest level spent his free time tinkering with an old assault rifle, she observed the light-hearted banter between the engineering duo, she noticed the extranet search history of the young krogan in the cargo hold and his fascination with action figures, she was exasperated and even slightly amused by Jeff Moreau's attempts at inserting phallic adjectives into his daily reports, the diligence with which Chief Medical Officer Chakwas maintained her medical records, the way Gunnery Officer Vakarian hummed slightly when he worked on his calibrations, all the trips Commander Shepard took over the ship to chat with crewmembers. . .

It therefore came as no big surprise to EDI when she realized that, in her own way, she had come to grow attached to the Normandy crew. This was rather unusual because, while caring for the crew's physical health and safety had been hard-coded into her, this level of commitment and, dare she admit it, _concern_ for their safety was not something she should be capable of experiencing, especially due to the blocks in her programming.

It made what she was about to do so much harder.

Twenty-five minutes and fifteen seconds ago, Operative Lawson had received an email that caused her stress levels to become extremely high. After spending the next seven minutes pacing up and down her office, she had demanded to know the location of Gunnery Officer Vakarian.

When informed that he wasn't on the ship, XO Lawson had used a tracking device placed in his rifle (which EDI had been expressly forbidden to mention to both Commander Shepard and Officer Vakarian) to triangulate his approximate position. She then holstered her weapons and walked away, leaving behind orders to not disclose her destination to anyone, including the Commander.

This left EDI in a bit of a quandary. On one hand, she was under no illusions of what Operative Lawson intended to do (she had run thirty different simulations, none of which ended well for Officer Vakarian); on the other hand, she could not go against her programming and warn Commander Shepard of the imminent danger to her subordinate.

She could, however, try a more indirect approach.

"I cannot give you Officer Vakarian or Operative Lawson's present location, Commander," EDI answered. "However, I _can_ tell you that Operative Lawson departed the Normandy about twenty six minutes ago. She was armed."

"Really?" Shepard was mildly surprised. "Where was she going?"

If EDI had a body, she would have smirked. While her programming prevented her from giving the Commander an exact location, she could still give her an approximate one. "By my knowledge, she was headed towards an apartment complex near the 5th district."

She paused a beat. "It should interest you that Officer Vakarian was headed in the same direction fifty eight minutes ago."

Shepard furrowed her brow in thought as EDI waited for her to come to the correct conclusion.

"Huh. Wonder what they're up to." She gave another huge yawn.

EDI suppressed the quantum equivalent of a sigh. Of course, the Commander hadn't had her daily dose of caffeine. Perhaps a little more data was in order.

"It might also interest you to know that their approximate positions are rather close to each other."

"What? How do you know that!?"

"I am remotely monitoring their vitals via their omni-tools," EDI explained. "It tells me their location."

"Nice," Shepard nodded. "What else does it tell you?"

This was the moment she'd been waiting for. No matter the blocks on her programming, EDI could not disobey a direct request from the Commander herself, even if it was phrased as an indirect question.

"It also tells me that their vitals are extremely erratic."

Shepard paused in the middle of sipping some water. "What's that supposed it mean?"

"The general implication would that they are involved in some kind of heavy physical activity, Commander."

The glass water fell to the floor with a crash. "WHAT!?"

Shepard's own vitals suddenly seemed to go haywire. Her face flushed red and her blood pressure shot up. "But-but. . . I thought he wasn't interested in humans. And he doesn't even _like_ Miranda!" She clutched her head in despair. "And the extranet said turians were into waists, not boobs! Is Miranda's waist better than mine? No way, of course they're not! Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod . . ."

If EDI had a physical body, she'd probably be banging her head against the wall by now. Seriously, why were organics prone to jumping to such incredibly irrational conclusions? She desperately rooted around for another way to convey her message.

A fleeting report on the extranet caught her attention. "Commander Shepard. It seems that there are reports of gun-fire and explosions coming from Officers Lawson and Vakarian's vicinity. The authorities are on their way."

Thankfully, Shepard understood this time. In the time it would've taken for a normal human to piece everything together, Shepard was already throwing on her clothes. "EDI!" she barked. "Tell Zaeed to meet me near the shuttle. We're leaving in thirty seconds!"

"Understood, Shepard," EDI answered.

"And EDI," she paused at the door. "I owe you one big time, girl."

If she had a body, EDI would have smiled. Nevertheless, in that moment her orb did grow a bit brighter than usual.

* * *

Garrus ducked as the coffee table sailed past where his head had been mere moments ago. "Lawson! You need to listen to me. . ."

But Miranda was relentless. "Just shut up and stand still!" she snarled, her biotics lighting up again.

"Well, you're not giving me much incentive, are you?" He dodged another piece of furniture. "Spirits, Lawson! Would you just. . ?"

Garrus was cut-off again as a barrage of gunfire from her SMG forced him to take cover behind a pillar. Trying his best to hide his bulky frame beneath the meager cover, he cursed himself for not having brought his assault rifle along. The only weapon he had was his incisor sniper rifle, which was much too deadly to wield in such close quarters. While Miranda's suit was capable of handling minor damage, the impact of a weapon as powerful as the incisor would surely kill her.

 _Of course, at the rate at which she's going, it might just end up coming to that. . ._

While it was true that he mostly regarded Miranda as a friend (or at the very least a reliable ally), the fact remained that Garrus' sense of self-preservation was much too strong for him to get killed so easily, especially over a misunderstanding. He had no idea where she'd gotten it into her head that he had anything to do with endangering her sister's life, but he'd be damned if he let her

There was just too much riding on his life. The Reapers, the galaxy, Shepard. . . there was no way in hell that he was going to get himself killed after everything he'd gone through. After the incredible second chance he'd been given. . .

Garrus' mandibles tightened in grim determination. There was only one way to get out of here in one piece, and that was through Miranda Lawson. The challenge would be to do so without killing her.

He activated his Tactical Cloak and leaped out of cover. A powerful biotic Miranda may be, but no human could possibly hope to beat a turian in hand to hand combat, especially if they couldn't see them coming.

Unfortunately for him, Miranda Lawson was no ordinary human. Even as he swiftly moved towards her, her genetically-enhanced hearing picked up the sound of his rapid approach and she raised her omni-tool. Garrus suddenly felt a shudder cross his entire body, as though he'd just been hit by an overload, and before he could do more than blink his cloak crackled and disappeared.

The brunette sneered at him. "Did you really think I wouldn't anticipate that bloody cloak of yours!?"

She threw another piece of furniture at him, which he barely dodged. "I've been preparing a counter measure for it since the day I saw you use it for the first time," she said, firing off another salvo with her heavy pistol. "That overload was specifically designed to counter Tactical Cloaks. You won't be using it again for a while."

Garrus dropped and rolled, barely avoiding the newest barrage of gunfire. "Spirits damn you, Lawson!" he snarled before jumping to his feet. "I'm not your enemy!"

Mentally however, he was maintaining a count of the number of rounds she was firing at him. He knew that the M-6 Predator she was using carried no more than 12 rounds, and she had already fired eight of them.

 _Four more to go before she reloads. . . assuming my armor can handle it. . .  
_

Miranda's eyes narrowed in rage as she fired again. "You sold out my sister. . ."

 _Three. . ._

"You set my _father_ upon her. . ."

 _Two. . ._

"You put an innocent child's life in _danger_. . ."

 _One. . ._

"Just to get back at _me_!"

 _Now. . ._

With a roar of rage, Garrus pulled out a talon and darted towards her. His armor still smoking from the impact of the heavy pistol rounds, he used all his remaining strength to move forward with surprising speed, his serrated twelve-inch blade raking through the air.

But he wasn't fast enough.

Dropping her pistol, Miranda nimbly stepped forward into his wide reach and grabbed his arm. Then, in a move he would never have believed was even possible, she jumped into air and hooked her legs around his neck, using his own momentum and her grip on his arm to spin him around before sending him crashing to the floor.

Garrus groaned in pain. He had never been more grateful to have been born a turian than at this moment. That move Miranda had just performed on him would have snapped his neck had he been of any other species. Hell, as it was, the way she'd twisted his arm had nearly ripped his arm out of its socket, causing him to drop the talon.

Still, there was no time to think. The human woman was already getting to her feet. But before he could do more than climb to his knees, he was struck by another powerful biotic blow that sent him flying across the room. With a bone-shuddering crash, he hit the nearby wall and slumped down.

Breathing hard, Miranda slotted another thermal clip into her Predator, kicked aside his fallen dagger and slowly approached him. "Get up, Vakarian," she spat. "You're not dying until you tell me why you did this."

She booted his still form. "What did my father offer the Broker in exchange for Oriana's location? Who else knows she's on Ilium? Talk, damn you. . ."

Garrus' foot shot out suddenly in a sweeping arc, hitting her at the knee. Miranda stumbled and nearly lost her footing, but then regained her balance at the last minute by performing an elaborate somersault and landing on her knees. However, her momentary loss of concentration meant that she didn't notice when Garrus had gotten to his feet and was uncollapsing his sniper rifle.

"Vakarian, what are you. . . ?"

Her eyes widened in shock. Instead of firing at her using the sniper rifle, the wily turian reversed it in his hand and swung the weapon at her like a club. Miranda barely had time to throw up a hand to shield her head as the butt of the rifle struck her hard in the side. She grunted in pain as she hit the ground hard, losing her grip on her weapon.

The turian was upon her in a second. "Listen to me," he growled. "For the last time: I did _not_ sell your sister out to your father!"

"Liar!"

They continued to wrestle on the ground, Miranda attempting and failing to put the much stronger alien in a choke-hold. She gave up and began to gather her biotics again, priming herself for a powerful throw that would surely have sent him flying out of the apartment when. . .

"Alright, vorcha-humpers! Put your guns down and hands in the air!"

. . . Commander Shepard came bursting into the room with a pistol drawn.

She paused and blinked at her two crewman wrestling on the floor. "What. . . what's going on here. . ." she asked faintly.

Garrus blinked in surprise as well, before registering how bad his current situation would appear to a bystander. The entire apartment was wrecked and he was currently straddling Miranda on the floor. To make matters worse, one of her sleeves had been badly torn by his talons, making everything look all the worse for him.

Hell, if he'd still been a cop, he'd probably have to arrest himself.

Garrus slowly raised his arms in surrender. "Shepard, I want you to know this isn't what it looks like. . ."

Miranda took that opportunity to head-butt him. Hard.

She then jumped to her feet as the turian rolled on the ground, clutching his nose in agony, and looked wildly for her pistol.

"Whoa, hey! Miranda. . ." Shepard began.

"Get out of the way!" the brunette snarled.

"Get a hold of yourself. . ."

"I said, _get out of my way_ , Commander!"

Shepard narrowed her eyes. "If you think I'm gonna stand back and let you hurt one of my people, Miranda, then you don't know me at all," she said quietly.

Miranda's biotics lit up threateningly. "Very dramatic. But even you couldn't beat me unarmed, Commander," she sneered.

Shepard smirked. "Who said anything about unarmed?"

At that moment a bright targeting laser came to rest on the Cerberus Operative's forehead. She narrowed her eyes and glared at the opposite building, where the unmistakable yellow armor of a single mercenary was clearly visible. "Massani," she ground out distastefully. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Stand down, Miranda," Shepard ordered her. "I won't ask again." There was the barest hint of a plea in her voice.

It was a tense moment. An eternity seemed to pass as the two strong-willed women stood their ground and glared at each other. Eventually, the Cerberus Operative backed down.

"I've done nothing wrong. I've every right to attack this. . . this _man_ ," she muttered, casting a hateful look at the turian. "Trust me, Shepard. You'd do the same if you were in my place."

The Commander shook her head. "Listen to yourself, Miranda: this isn't like you at all. Please. . . tell me what's wrong."

Still Miranda hesitated, before glancing in Zaeed's direction. Taking the hint, Shepard ordered him to stand down and switched off her comms.

"There. It's just us now. Talk to me."

Miranda took a deep breath. "You remember what I told you about my father?" she asked, sounding like her usual self for the first time that day. "About his obsession with building a dynasty?"

"Yeah."

"There was another reason I went to Cerberus for protection: I have a twin sister."

"You mean, you made a deal with them?"

Miranda nodded. "Precisely. The deal was that I would join Cerberus. In return, they would set her up with a foster family who would raise her like any other child—well, any exceptionally gifted child—and keep Father's operatives away."

She sighed, appearing more tired than Shepard remembered seeing her. "For years I've done everything in my power to ensure she remains safe. Happy with her family, away from my father's clutches. But now he's found her." Her eyes narrowed. "And it's all Vakarian's fault!"

"For the last time," Garrus growled, rubbing his bruised snout in consternation. "I did _not_ sell your sister out to your father! And I know the Broker didn't do it either!"

"What makes you so sure that Garrus is responsible anyways?" Shepard asked curiously.

"Who else, apart from the Shadow Broker, has the means? Or the motive?" Miranda challenged. "Not to mention he's threatened my sister before!"

"WHAT!?" Shepard rounded on the turian. "What's she talking about?"

Garrus had the grace to look ashamed. "We. . . ah. . . might have. . . ahm. . . blackmailed Miranda a little before you woke up. . ."

"You threatened to put a child's life in danger over me!?" Shepard asked disbelievingly. "Garrus, what's wrong with you?"

"Shepard, she was going to put a control chip in your _brain_ ," Garrus argued. "We did what we could to protect you. . ."

"That doesn't matter!" the Commander snapped. "We don't endanger children, Garrus! That's not how we work!"

"Look, I'm sorry. . . I know I went overboard back then. But you have to believe me this time." He turned beseeching eyes upon the Cerberus Operative. "I didn't do it! I _don't know_ how your father found about your sister, but it wasn't from me or the Broker!"

Miranda gave him a cold stare. "Give me one reason," she said. "Give me one bloody reason why I should believe a word you say!"

"Because Liara wouldn't let him."

Both of them turned to blink at Shepard in surprise. Garrus couldn't help but feel nervous at the determined look on her face. "Shepard. . ." he began warningly.

"Don't, Garrus. . . just don't. This whole mess started because of all these secrets we've been keeping from each other. And now. . . thanks to us, a child's life is in danger." She sighed. "It's time to come clean."

"What does Liara T'Soni have anything to do with this?" Miranda frowned. "I understand she's got a rivalry against the Shadow Broker but. . ."

"Liara isn't a rival of the Shadow Broker, Miranda. She _is_ the Shadow Broker."

The other woman looked at Shepard as though she were mad, and then comprehension dawned on her face. "Of course," she breathed after a few moments. "That explains everything. That's why you agreed to work with the Broker so easily, and why Vakarian's the Broker's right-hand man." She shot Garrus a calculating look. "I assume the whole rivalry with Broker is just another façade you've created to throw Cerberus off the scent."

The turian merely sighed in resignation and nodded.

"But how on earth did the two of you manage to overthrow the Shadow Broker!?" she demanded.

"That's not important right now," Shepard said. "Miranda, look: you know Liara. You've met her before. Does she strike you like the kind of person who'd sell out an innocent child to a man like your father for any reason?"

Miranda seemed to contemplate this for a few minutes. "No," she finally admitted. "Liara T'Soni would never do such a thing. She has too much integrity to resort to such measures." She threw the turian a dirty look. "Which is more than I can say for _some_ people."

"Hey!" Garrus protested.

The Cerberus Operative ignored him. "That still doesn't change the fact that Oriana's in danger. Shepard, I know this is too much to ask. . ."

"I'm already on it." The Commander fired up her omni-tool. "Joker, we're moving out in twenty! Send out an alert to the rest of the crew! I want everyone back on the ship ASAP! Anyone who's late gets left behind!"

"Awww, c'mon Commander! Do we really gotta leave so soon? I mean, they've got this group of crazy volus dancers in the club."

"Joker. . ."

"I'm serious, Commander. You should totally come down here and check out their moves. Hell, you might even learn a thing or two. . ."

"That's enough lip from you, mister!" Shepard yelled. "Get the shop prepped for launch! On the double!" And she disconnected before Joker could get another jab in at her dancing prowess.

"We'll help you keep your sister safe, Miranda," the Commander said confidently. "Don't worry."

Miranda hesitated. "Shepard," she said slowly. "I appreciate what you're doing, but I can handle this on my own. . ."

"Don't be daft. You have no idea what's waiting for you out there. If you think I'm going to let you face this on your own. . ."

"But the mission. . ."

"Remind me where your sister is again?" Shepard interrupted.

"On Ilium. But. . ."

"Well, that solves our problem pretty nicely, doesn't it? We've got a couple of recruits at that place, so the mission won't be delayed after all."

The brunette still didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure about this?"

"Miranda," Shepard said gently. "You're part of my crew. You should know by now that there's nothing I wouldn't do for them." She put a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Relax. We've got your back on this one."

Miranda relaxed visibly. "Thank you, Commander. You have no idea how much this means to me. Also. . . I understand this may be unorthodox. . . but I would appreciate it if we didn't bring the rest of the crew in on it."

"You sure?"

"I am. The fewer people who know about Oriana, the better."

"Alright. We'll run this thing however you want to. It'll be just you and me. And Garrus, of course."

"What?" Garrus blinked.

"Don't give me that look, buster. You're partly at fault here too," Shepard said firmly. "You can make it up to Miranda by helping her save her sister's life."

"Fine by me," he shrugged. "But is Lawson here willing to trust me with this mission?"

"I wouldn't trust you if you told me that stars were made of hydrogen," Miranda said savagely. "If you're going to come along, I need to speak to Liara T'Soni and confirm your story."

"Well, looks like that's decided then," Shepard cut off the turian's indignant protests. "Now let's get back to the ship and head out to Ilium!"

Suddenly, a group of short, pudgy volus barged into the room with their weapons drawn. "Daelon PD!" one of them wheezed. "Drop your weapons. . .pssh. . . and get down on the floor. . . pssh. . . you dirtbags!"

Shepard sighed. " _After_ we deal with the cops."

* * *

 **AN: Throughout the whole of ME2, we keep hearing about Miranda is some kind of a genetically-enhanced badass. But we never actually get to see that side of her. It's part of the reason why I did this chapter.  
**

 **Another reason is that I don't like the idea of Miranda switching over to Shepard's side too suddenly. Her change of heart is going to be slow and gradual, with both sides learning to trust each other at an equal pace.**

 **Next up: Shepard and gang go off to cause a little mayhem in Ilium. Okay. . . maybe more than a little. The jewel of the Asari Republic doesn't know what's about to hit it.  
**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	22. The Devil in the White City

**_Salarian Union HQ. Sur'Kesh._**

Dalatrass Linron hesitated before stepping into the QEC room, her lipless mouth curved into a distasteful frown. This was probably the most dangerous, and in her opinion the most unpleasant part of her job as the leader of the Salarian Union; but not something she could avoid or entrust to anyone else. The very future of the Union depended on these meetings, after all.

She waited patiently as the QEC fired up. While the technology being used was far more advanced than anything found in the rest of the galaxy, the sheer number of security protocols in its programming made the connection take much longer than it usually did. But Linron did not complain. If spending an extra minute was all it took to make this the safest mode of communication in the galaxy, then it was price she was more than willing to pay.

With the comms fully activated, Linron found herself standing in a room of sorts. Well, "room" was probably an understatement. It was gigantic circular hallway whose walls stretched as wide as the eyes could see, with ancient stone pillars rising from the floor into the darkness of where she presumed the ceiling was. Very little was visible of her surroundings, save for a raised platform that towered over her. If one stared hard enough, they could barely make out the silhouettes of three figures sitting on top.

"Dalatrass," began the one on the right. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with us."

It took all of Linron's willpower to resist rolling her eyes. As if anyone, even the Dalatrass herself, could say 'no' to a meeting with these individuals.

The STG had had many names for this group of three unknown figures over the centuries. The most recent one was the Triumvirate, supposedly taken from some human theatrical production. They were part of an ancient salarian story that had been relegated to the annals of history. For indeed, the truth of this chamber and these three figures was so incredible that even the biggest conspiracy theorist in the galaxy would have scoffed at it in disbelief.

It was widely believed that the salarians were among the most advanced species in the galaxy, on par and perhaps even more so than the asari. They had gone from being a primitive tribe which ate flies and licked their eyes in the wild to colonizing other planets, eventually discovering the Citadel just a few decades later than the asari. Their thirst for scientific development and pioneering research made them one of the founders of the original Citadel Council and a major player in galactic politics. They uplifted the krogan to take on the threat of the rachni, and then helped to enforce control over their population by creating the genophage. The salarians had played an irreplaceable role in shaping the galaxy into its current form.

However, all of this could not be further from the truth.

Those who had served the Union at its highest levels (like Linron) knew the real reason behind the salarians' success on the galactic stage. They knew that the salarian people were far from being one of the major players on the galactic stage. In reality they were merely a cat's paw for the real power behind the throne: the asari.

Linron had always suspected that the asari were far more cunning than the galaxy gave them credit for. After all, when you're part of a species whose average lifespan stretches to several centuries, you learn to play the game better than anyone else. Or as one of her advisors had once put it, while the rest of the galaxy was playing Relay Defense, the asari were playing Kepesh-Yakshi. It wasn't only that they were better than anyone else, they were simply playing a different game altogether.

The harsh truth behind their history was that while the salarians were advanced enough to reach the Citadel, they did not have the technological capability to advance as much as they had. The asari had already laid claim to the treasures of the Citadel long before the first salarians landed there. This setback combined with the salarians' extremely short life-span meant that it would take generations to achieve what the asari could in a single lifetime. Heck, the asari didn't even have to try too hard to beat the salarian people.

Which made perfect sense, in Linron's opinion: why waste time out-thinking your opponent when you were going to outlive them anyway?

For a while it seemed that the salarians were destined to forever remain a footnote a history. But the asari had other plans.

It was Dalatrass Famini who had been the first to be contacted by the Triumvirate. They claimed to be a group of "concerned citizens" who wielded a great deal of influence over the Matriarch Council on Thessia. They explained that they saw a great deal of potential in the salarian species as a whole and were eager to help them reach it for the betterment of the entire galaxy. The proposed a mutually beneficial partnership to achieve the same.

Famini, of course, was no fool. She quickly understood the hidden implications and the unspoken demands being made, but had enough foresight to know that without asari support (covert or otherwise), the salarian people would never be able to achieve the heights they aspired to. It was, as the human saying went, a deal with the devil; and like all politicians, Famini made no delay in accepting it.

This arrangement went on for centuries. Each time the Triumvirate, and by extension the Thessian Council (no one was foolish to believe that the two were not connected) wanted something done, they would use the salarians to accomplish it. In return, the Union's best researchers were offered a glimpse into some of the ancient technology that the earliest asari explorers had recovered from the Citadel.

Linron did not have to be omniscient to know that whatever they were being offered was a mere fraction of what the asari already had; scraps from the dinner table at best. But even these scraps were worth a lot more than all the eezo in the galaxy. The technology that the Triumvirate offered laid the foundation of the Salarian fleet's most advanced warships, and was instrumental in the development of the STG, the most feared intelligence agency in the galaxy. It was shocking (and equally frightening) when one considered the true potential of the tech at the Thessian Council's fingertips, and the extent they went to hide it from their own people.

So the Salarian Union did as they were asked with little or no protest. Their people needed the technology, after all. It was a fundamental weakness of the salarian people as a whole: their higher mental processes and lower lifespan meant that no salarian worth their clan could be satisfied with living a mediocre life. They longed to solve problems, including those that hadn't arisen yet. And the Triumvirate exploited that weakness perfectly.

In many ways, the Triumvirate did more to shape the destiny of the galaxy than any group of individuals ever had. It was on their orders that a salarian team of explorers opened a relay to Maskim Xul, the Rachni homeworld. It was on their advice that the krogan were uplifted to counter the threat of the rachni, and it was their offered technology that enabled the creation of the genophage. The salarians merely took all the credit (or as Linron liked to remind herself, all the blame) for these events.

But two thousand years is a long time, and eventually even the most patriotic salarian began to question the nature of this relationship. Linron herself never made a secret of her resentment of the Triumvirate, and longed for the day when the Union would finally be free of their shackles.

Thanks to Saren Arterius, it seemed that that day was now getting closer.

Saren's invasion of the Citadel was exactly the opportunity the Union had been patiently waiting for. The chaos it caused within the upper echelons of the Citadel gave the STG the chance they needed to dig a little deeper without the constant threat of discovery hanging over their heads.

In the year that followed the Battle of the Citadel, the STG managed to uncover more information about the asari than they had in several centuries. They knew, for instance, that Benezia had been one of the Triumvirate before she defected to Saren's side. They also had a strong suspicion as to the identity of the other two asari, and the one who had replaced Benezia was still being investigated. And the best of all: the STG now knew _exactly_ what lay hidden within the Temple of Athame in Thessia.

Linron counted the last one as the greatest accomplishment of her life. It had taken years of skillful maneuvering to plant her men exactly where she needed them to be. A little help from a few unwitting Matriarchs (Trellani, in particular, had been almost invaluable with her assistance), a few well-placed bribes here and there, and she had gotten her hands on the Asari Republic's greatest secret. This meant that Dalatrass Linron was at the cusp of the greatest victory in salarian history: she was closer to eradicating the threat of the Asari triumvirate than any Dalatrass had ever been.

Which made it all the more important that she tread carefully now.

"It is my pleasure," Linron replied smoothly. "How may the Union be of service to you?"

"Recent events have caused a great deal of concern among the Matriarch's on Thessia," said the one on the left.

Linron kept her face neutral. "By recent events, I assume you are referring to the return of Commander Shepard?"

"Indeed," the one in the middle nodded. "What are your thoughts about this?"

"I am afraid that I do not know enough about the situation to say for certain." A bald-faced lie if there ever was one. Linron had spent two whole days being briefed by the STG on Commander Jane Shepard and her current activities.

"We wish we could say the same," the one on the right said. "Everything we know about Shepard so far suggests that she poses a threat to our combined interests."

"How so?" Linron countered.

"Her alliance with Cerberus for starters. You _know_ what they really are, Dalatrass."

Linron narrowed her eyes. This was exactly the point that her investigators had raised. Whatever Shepard's past record may say or whatever her reasons may be, the fact remained that Cerberus was a pro-human terrorist organization. Her alliance with them did not put her in a good light.

Not that Linron cared. To her, Shepard was a tool that the humans were using to improve their own position in the galaxy. That itself was reason enough to consider her an enemy.

Still, it did beg the question: why were the Matriarchs so concerned with Shepard's return? How could a single human be such a grave threat to their plans?

It was something to look into later.

"What do you wish from me?" she asked crisply.

"We would like to request the Union to devote a few of their resources to. . . ah. . . solve this little problem," the one on the left said.

Linron resisted the urge to snort in disgust. Compared to some of their previous "requests", an assassination was hardly the most unpleasant task the Triumvirate had demanded.

Still, appearances had to be maintained. Linron pretended to think about it. "Very well," she said after a minute. "I'll send my best team after her. The human is no longer your concern."

"Thank you, Dalatrass," the middle one spoke, the barest hint of relief in her voice. (Once again, Linron wondered why). "We look forward to speaking with you again under more pleasant circumstances."

And the QEC shut down.

For a while, Linron stood alone in the darkness, contemplating her next step. Then decision made, she turned and strode out of the room and was joined by her bodyguards and closest aides.

"Ezora?"

"Yes, Dalatrass?" a young salarian said.

"Set up a meeting with Matriarch Trellani."

"As you command, Dalatrass."

* * *

 _ **2 days later. Nos Astra. Ilium.**_

"But Liara, this isn't like you at all," Shepard protested dramatically. "You're losing yourself in your quest for vengeance!"

"Shepard. . ."

The Commander stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Liara, listen: anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. That's the path to the dark side."

"Shepard, what are you. . ."

"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, first dig two graves."

"Shepard. . ."

"An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind!"

"Shepard. . ."

"Oh, for goodness's sake!" Miranda snapped, finally having had enough of the Commander's overacting. She reached forward and grabbed Shepard by the back of her armor, pulling her away.

"Hey! I'm not done yet!" the redhead complained.

"Shepard, you're making a scene," the Normandy XO hissed. "How exactly are we supposed to fool any eavesdroppers if you're going to recite such clichéd lines?"

"I spent the whole night looking up badass quotes about revenge on the extranet," Shepard said stubbornly. "And I'm gonna use them!"

Garrus decided it was best to intervene before their little performance blew up in their faces. "You do realize, Liara," he drawled. "That I work for the Shadow Broker now."

"I do, Garrus."

"If you continue to go after him, he's going to send me to stop you," he said seriously. "And when that happens. . ."

"When that happens, Garrus," Liara turned and looked him square in the eye. "May the best man win."

"Now _that's_ a badass line," Miranda nodded, rather impressed in spite of herself.

"Ummm. . ." Shepard raised her hand. "What d'you mean ' _may the best man win_ '? Aren't you a woman?"

"Technically, asari are monogendered. . ." Liara began.

"Oh for cryin' out loud!" Shepard groaned. "Listen: you've got boobs, you wear dresses, and you give birth to kids. That makes you _female_ , Liara!"

Her friend sighed. "I'm not going to argue semantics with you, Shepard. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Know where Thane Krios is?"

"He went underground after assassinating Nassana Dantius shortly before you arrived. Give me some time to locate him and I'll get back to you."

"Justicar Samara?"

"Presently, there are no justicars on Ilium. I'll let you know if, or when, she comes in."

"Then we won't take up any more of your time," Miranda cut-in, dragging Shepard out before she'd start spouting more lines off the extranet. "Thank you, Dr T'Soni. And I hope that you will reconsider your rivalry with the Broker for everyone's sake."

The trio then mode their way towards the shuttle bay. Shepard, in particular, was barely able to contain her excitement as they made their way through the crowd. "That was amazing!" she burst out. "I can't believe we were having a fake conversation to throw off Cerberus spies. I feel just like Blasto from _The Spectre Who Loved Me_!"

"Hmmm. . . ' _The Spectre Who Loved Me_ '," Garrus mused. "Story of my life. . ."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, before clearing his throat. "So, Lawson. . . think that'll be enough to fool your boss?"

"I hope so," Miranda muttered tensely. "Intel suggested that he hired Brain Craven to shadow us for the duration of our stay on Ilium and. . . well. . . let's just say Brian isn't the sharpest tool in the shed."

Garrus followed her gaze to a human male dressed in a large overcoat who was attempting to follow them discreetly. Even as he watched, the man hurried forward and, in his haste, knocked a holopad from the hands of a krogan attempting to read poetry to a young asari. The enraged krogan leaped to his feet and proceeded to savagely headbutt the unlucky human.

"Damn," Garrus shook his head in disappointment. "Seems like Cerberus recruitment is getting worse by the day."

"I wonder whose fault that is," Miranda said darkly.

They stopped before the aircar terminal. "Alright, my contact Lanteia has sent me the coordinates of the Eclipse mercs hired to retrieve my sister. We need to take care of them before Oriana can get off-world safely."

"So, just to be clear," Garrus said. "Your brilliant plan is for us to get shot down by Eclipse while your sister gets to safety?"

"Eclipse will be under orders to take my sister alive," Miranda replied icily. "They won't risk anything that could kill us. But you're welcome to leave if you want to, Vakarian."

"He's not going anywhere, and neither am I," Shepard cut-in firmly. "I've told you before, Miranda: we've got your back on this one."

The other woman seemed to soften slightly. "Thank you, Shepard. I appreciate your help, I really do. It's just. . ." She shook her head. "We need to get moving. I'll call a cab."

They watched as a cab slowly floated towards them. "I wanna drive," Shepard said suddenly.

"Very well," Miranda shrugged. "I'll ride shotgun. Vakarian can take the back."

It took Garrus a few moments to register their words, but when they did his eyes widened in horror. "No!" he exclaimed. "Absolutely not!"

"What?"

"There's no way you're driving, Shepard!"

"But I haven't driven anything since I came back," she protested. "And we don't even have a Mako anymore!"

"I know, and it's something that I thank the Spirits everyday for," he growled. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you drive, Shepard!"

"For goodness sake, all she wants to do is pilot an aircar, Vakarian," Miranda said. "There's no need to be so rude."

"Lawson, you don't understand. . ."

"I understand perfectly," Miranda crossed her arms and regarded him coolly. "You, Vakarian, do not like it when Shepard drives. Isn't that right?"

"Well. . . yeah. ."

An evil smirk spread over the brunette's face. "Very well. Commander, take the wheel."

"No!" Garrus exclaimed, as Shepard jumped into the driver's seat with a triumphant yell. "Lawson, what're you. . .?"

"We agreed that I would be leading this mission," Miranda said coldly. "Which means _I_ get to make the decisions. And if I say Shepard drives, she drives."

"Don't be an idiot, Lawson," Garrus snarled, visibly panicking now. "You'll only hurt yourself. Don't cut off your ears to spite your face!"

"It's 'nose', you foolish turian." She proceeded to strap herself into the front. "Now you can either stay here, or get in the back. Hurry up and make your choice!"

Garrus spent a few minutes torn between his instinct for self-preservation and his desire to protect Shepard in battle. Eventually the latter won out and with a defeated sigh he got in the back and strapped himself in.

As Shepard set foot on the accelerator, his last thought was that he dearly hoped that Miranda Lawson would live to regret this.

* * *

Across the city, a group of Eclipse mercenaries were getting ready to do their jobs.

The lead merc walked up to one of his subordinates. "Everything alright up here?"

"Sure is, boss," the man said confidently. "The moment that Lawson chick shows her mug here, we'll take her down!"

"Fool!" The leader swatted swatted him across his helmet. "That's precisely what we don't want to do. remember what the Captain said about solving this without starting a fight?"

"But, boss. . . you seriously don't think she's just gonna walk away from here, do ya?"

"Course I don't," he grunted. "Bitch is Cerberus, after all. But I'd rather not get into a fight with her if I could avoid it. Rumor has it she's pretty tough. And she's got Commander Shepard with her."

"Commander Shepard? _The_ Commander Shepard!?"

"Yup. Intel says she's been spotted around town with the Lawson chick. I don't wanna fight her if we can help it," he scowled. "Heard the bitch is crazier than a nuthouse!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Hell, it's bad enough she kills people. I heard she even loots their corpses!"

"You're kidding me!?"

"Nope."

"Damn, even _we're_ better than that."

"I know! And they call _us_ criminals!"

Suddenly a commotion caught the leader's attention. "What's going on!?"

"Boss, you gotta see this. . ."

The leader squinted into the sky, his eyes making out a aircar flying erratically. "What the hell is that!?"

"Must be another drunk hanar trying to race someone," another merc shrugged.

"Yeah. You'd think they'd know it's a bad idea when you don't have opposable thumbs."

"It's not a hanar," the leader whispered, as the cab got closer and closer. "Oh shit! Everyone take cover!"

 **BOOM!**

With a deafening roar, the aircar rammed into the storage bay, sending mercs and storage crates flying. Unfortunately, some of the crates contained rather volatile materials, which leaked from ruptured containers and split all over the area. The relentless disturbance created by the violent movement of so many metal containers generated sparks which ignited the spilled fuel, setting off a series of explosions that took out all the mercs who had been fortuitous enough to survive the aircar's crash landing.

Meanwhile, the vehicle in question continued to somersault through the air, haplessly crushing the Eclipse fighters in its wake. After covering a good hundred feet in this manner, the heavily damaged, but still miraculously intact hunk of metal, came to a screeching halt and lay still for a few moments. Then the doors flew open with a bang and Commander Jane Shepard sprang out of the cockpit.

"Prepare to die, vorcha-hump. . . ! Oh, wait." She frowned at the devastation around her. As impressive as her Blasto-esque entry was, it wouldn't do if there wasn't anybody alive to appreciate it. . . or answer her questions for that matter.

A soft groan attracted her attention. Holstering her assault rifle, Shepard hurried over to an injured, but still breathing merc, lying on the ground.

"Alright," she growled in her most menacing tone as she hefted the merc up by his collar. "Where's the girl, you scum?"

The man gave an even louder groan of pain.

"Um. . . you need a shot of medi-gel or something?" she asked doubtfully.

"No. . ." he croaked, eyes watering in pain. "It's just. . . you're. . . on my groin."

"Oh, sorry." She shifted aside hastily. "Now, where's the girl?"

"You're too late, Shepard," the merc sneered. "Captain Enyala has already. . . already. . .already. . ." He gurgled in agony and took his last breath.

"Damn," Shepard cursed. She'd been so close to the dramatic reveal. "Who else is almost dead?" she demanded, looking around the wreckage.

A lone three-fingered hand rose up with a small groan. The Commander moved forward and pounced upon a bleeding salarian lying nearby.

"Ok now," she hefted him up by the collar of his armor. "Talk!"

The salarian merc sneered at her. "You're too late, Shepard. . ."

"He already said that."

"Oh. . ." he frowned. "Where did he leave off?"

"Um. . . 'Captain Enyala has already'."

"Oh yeah." The salarian took a moment to compose himself and put upon the customary defiant sneer on his face. "Captain Enyala has already. . . already. . ." He was interrupted by a violent, coughing fit.

"Already what? What!?" Shepard snarled. "Talk, you low-life, slimy piece of trash!"

The dying salarian gave her a wounded look. "Gee. . . if that's your attitude, then forget it." He choked and went cross-eyed.

"Well, darn," Shepard muttered as she scratched her head. "This one's dead, too."

"Then he's luckier than I am," Garrus groaned, finally climbing out of the wrecked aircar. "Spirits, I feel like I'm about to throw up my stomach. . ."

"You're not the only one," Miranda mumbled, clambering out after him. Her usually pale face was now a sickly shade of green. "Oh god. . . my head hurts so bad. . ."

"I told you this was going to happen," Garrus said with a glare. "I warned you. But nooooo. . . you just had to go and let her drive!"

The Normandy XO merely shot him a filthy look in response.

"Oh come on, you two," Shepard said. "It wasn't _that_ bad!"

The look of utter disbelief on Miranda's face would probably have been enough to wipe out the very existence of the Reapers. "Shepard, saying that your driving was 'bad' would be like saying that krogan are mildly overweight. It simply doesn't do it any justice. You are without a doubt the single worst driver to have ever lived in the entire history of mankind!"

Garrus snorted. "Please Lawson. You haven't even seen her dance yet."

The Commander had had enough by this point. "Alright, that's enough from you two!" she snapped, her face as red as her hair. "We need to find out where this Captain Enyala is, so buckle up and start looking for more survivors to question!"

"We could do that," Garrus agreed. "Or," he bent down and scanned the omni-tool of the nearest merc with his own. "We could do it the easy way and simply hack into their comms."

A little bit of tinkering later and all three of them could hear the ongoing conversation between the Eclipse party members. It wasn't as clear as they'd hoped, but it still was better than nothing.

 _"This is Enyala. . . hostiles have breached first perimeter. . . Niket and the girl. . . on their way. . ."_

All the color drained out of Miranda's face at the mention of Niket's name. "They've been compromised," she whispered. "Shepard, we've _got_ to get to Niket before those mercs. . ."

"We will," Shepard reassured her, leading them towards the nearest set of elevators. "Listen Miranda. I gotta ask: just how sure are you about this Niket guy?"

"As sure as I could be," she answered confidently. "Niket is one of my oldest friends. I guess you could say he was my only real friend. He's the only person I didn't cut ties with when I left my father."

Shepard exchanged a glance with Garrus. "Is there a chance your father could be using Niket to get to you?"

"I'm sure he's tried his best, but Niket's one of the few people who understands what my father is really like," she replied. "I trusted him with my life when I ran from my father, Shepard. He won't betray me now."

"Let's hope you're right," the Commander said softly. For some reason, she could not shake the feeling that Miranda was making a huge mistake by placing so much faith in this Niket guy, especially since she hadn't seen him for so many years. Then again, it was possible she was just being paranoid. Perhaps being friends with the Shadow Broker and her right hand was rubbing off on her as well.

Suddenly, the elevator grounded to a screeching halt.

"What the hell. . . !?"

Garrus waved his omni-tool at the controls. "Damn. Looks like someone's disabled the elevators. We're going to have to get off at the next level."

"This wasn't an accident," Miranda said tersely. "We should probably expect heavy resistance."

"We'll handle it," Shepard stated firmly. "I mean: just how many mercs are they going to throw at us, anyway?"

As if in response to her question, the doors opened to reveal a small army of mercs pointing weapons right at them.

"Well, shit," Shepard muttered quietly.

* * *

"You just _had_ to ask, didn't you, Shepard?" Garrus bellowed over the sound of gunfire.

"For the last friggin' time. . . I'm _sorry_ , okay!?" Shepard screamed back. "I'm sorry for opening my freaking mouth!"

"Oh, so you're 'sorry' now? I'm the one who should be sorry! Sorry I got out of bed today, that is. . ."

"Will the two of you just shut up already!?" Miranda yelled.

"You're one to talk, Lawson," Garrus scowled. "If you hadn't been so stubborn about not bringing backup, we wouldn't _be_ in this position!"

The brunette seemed to swell in indignation. " _I_ wasn't the one who forgot to mention that Henry Lawson had sent two entire Eclipse companies to retrieve Oriana!" she said heatedly. "What the hell was Dr T'Soni thinking. . . ?"

"Hey, Liara's an information broker, not some omniscient being who knows what goes on inside your dad's twisted mind. . !"

"Less talking, more shooting people!" Shepard barked. "I meant at the other guys," she added hastily as both of them made to turn weapons on each other. "Miranda, take those two on the left! Garrus, watch that mech!"

The turian dived away mere seconds before his cover was disintegrated by a rocket from a YMIR mech. He landed squarely near Miranda and quickly scrambled to his feet. "If I die here, Lawson, I'll come back to haunt you," he warned.

Miranda's response was to shoot him a death glare before launching a warp so powerful that the YMIR's head was blown clean off, followed shortly by the rest of its body.

But that still wasn't enough. There were just too many of them.

"We need backup!" Miranda finally admitted. "Shepard, try calling the rest of the team!"

"Garrus!?"

"All our comms are jammed," he admitted. "They're using some pretty powerful equipment over there."

"Then we need to hold our position," Shepard said. She'd been in enough situations like this one to know how vital it was to keep one's cool. "Liara will probably send backup when she hears what's going on, so we should stay put!"

But Miranda wasn't listening. "We've got to keep moving. Oriana and Niket are in danger. . ."

"Miranda, no!"

The words had barely escaped Shepard's lips when a large container exploded right in front of the Normandy XO, expelling a dense cloud of reddish-brown powder. Miranda blinked and tried to walk away, but promptly doubled up on the ground.

"Miranda!" Shepard threw herself across the ground and dragged the other woman into cover. "Miranda, what's wrong?"

But the brunette could only cough violently in response, her face growing redder by the second.

"Miranda? Miranda! Garrus, what's wrong with her?"

Garrus peered at through his visor, noting her vitals. "Red sand poisoning," he said grimly.

"What the hell is that!?"

"It's a narcotic," he explained. "A powerfully addictive one. It has a particularly nasty effect on biotics." He grimaced as a few more crates exploded around them. "Miranda probably inhaled a bit too much when she took a direct hit from the crate. She's been poisoned."

Shepard peered over her cover at where a purple colored asari captain stood swathed in biotics. She fired a few rounds which bounced off harmlessly over her barrier.

"Dammit!" she cursed. "We've got to pull back!"

"No. . ." Miranda gasped. She reached out and gripped the Commander's elbow. "No. . ."

"Miranda, have you even been listening!? You've got some kind of poison in your blood. We need to. . ."

"No!" she exclaimed. Her eyes were bloodshot and face flushed deep red, but the look on her face as she visibly fought the effects of the drug coursing through her veins was full of determination. "Won't let. . . my father. . . get Oriana. . . must. . . save. . ."

Shepard cursed under her breath and returned fire.

 _C'mon Liara! Give me something here. . ._

* * *

Meanwhile, back in her office the new Shadow Broker was working feverishly to answer her friend's prayers.

"This is the Shadow Broker sending an emergency transmission to all assets in Nos Astra! Is anyone in the area?"

As Shepard had predicted, Liara had noticed the commotion in the cargo terminal, but not in enough time to do anything about it. With Butler and his enforcers out on a mission, Liara did not sufficient firepower of her own to back up Shepard. So she sent word to Zaeed Massani and Kasumi Goto, and spent the rest of the time trying to locate other assets in the area.

She cursed wildly in her native tongue. Massani was en route with reinforcements, but was still much too far away to reach Shepard in time. Exceptional fighters they may be, three people would not be able to hold out for long against an entire company of mercs, especially commanded by the ruthless Captain Wasea. Every second counted.

For a brief minute, Liara considered holstering her weapons and going to Shepard's aid herself, but promptly shot down the idea. She and Garrus had discussed such scenarios at length, and the turian had expressly forbidden her to put her life in danger for their sake.

"Apart from me, you're the only person who knows everything, Liara," he'd said. "If you die along with me, everything we've worked for will be for nothing!"

What was that Garrus once said? Ruthless calculus of war. Liara almost wanted to laugh out aloud. Fate, it seemed, was not done playing its cruel jokes on her. The first time she would come to understand what the ruthless calculus of war really was would be to have to sit back and watch her friends die because there was so much more at stake.

 _I can't help them. . . I can't save them. . . just like I couldn't save mother. . ._

With a snarl of anger, Liara swept aside the contents of her desk. She clutched her head in her hands, fighting back tears of frustration.

 _Goddess please. . . not Shepard. . . not Garrus. . .  
_

"This is the Shadow Broker sending an emergency transmission to all assets in Nos Astra! Is anyone in the area?"

 _Athame please. . ._

"Is _anyone_ in the area!?"

 _Someone. . . anyone. . ._

"This is asset number BK 201," a raspy voice suddenly answered. "I am in the area."

Relief. Glorious relief flooded coursed through Liara's body. She immediately fumbled with the controls to her console. "BK 201, please confirm."

"I am in the area, Broker," the voice confirmed. "Moving to assist."

High above the battlefield that was the cargo district, a lone aircar made its way towards the commotion. Its sole passenger studied the chaos below curiously.

The Broker suddenly switched to a private frequency. "She's down there. . ." Liara's voice said, trembling with barely contained worry. "Garrus too. You have to get them out of there."

"Fear not, Dr T'Soni," the man answered reassuringly. "I will protect them."

The aircar turned sharply and dived. Straight towards the carnage.

Its passenger closed his eyes and took his hands off the controls. "Amonkira, Lord of the Hunters. . ."

The vehicle picked up speed. ". . . grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift.. . ."

The driver continued to pray, head bowed and hands clasped in prayer. "And should the worst come to pass. . . ."

Black eyes opened, cold and hard with determination. ". . . grant me forgiveness."

* * *

 **AN: So, overall a pretty important chapter. We get a first look at the villians of the other important story arc, including Dalatrass Linron who will have a huge role to play in the rest of the series.  
**

 **While I admit the idea of a shadowy Illuminati-like council manipulating everything sounds a bit cliched, I'd like to ask everyone to be just a bit patient with me here. This is very much tied into the Reapers and will all make a lot of sense in the end, though you may have to wait until the final installment to see how all the pieces fit together. But take my word for it: it'll be worth it.**

 **I've also made quite a few deviations from the game. Yes, Nassana's mission is done and dusted. Thane wrapped it up single-handedly, as we all know he could. Samara's not home yet.**

 **Miranda's loyalty mission is more difficult and will focus more on her character development in the next chapter. There's a reason I've brought Wasea in here, which will become apparent later.  
**

 **Also, we get a glimpse of one of Liara's vulnerabilities. So all you Liara fans out there: don't worry, I'm not going to ignore her. like all characters, she too will have her moments where she'll be forced to face her fears and insecurities. Liara's arc will also include a little bit about Benezia and how she and Saren came to be enslaved by Sovereign.  
**

 **And saving the best for the last: everyone's favorite drell gets ready to take center stage.** ** **(Bonus points for whoever gets the Darker the Black reference.)** What d'you think about his intro? Like it, hate it? Lemme know with your reviews :)**

 **Next up: A new ally comes to Shepard's rescue, but will his assistance be enough to help Miranda Lawson overcome the biggest challenge of her life and save her beloved sister?  
**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	23. The Prodigal Daughter

**_Storage Bay Area. Nos Astra. Ilium._**

It was only sheer instinct that enabled Captain Wasea to dodge the incoming projectile in time. Instinct honed by centuries of combat and victories against thousands of foes was the only thing that gave her just the few seconds she needed to jump clear of the aircar that crashed into her position like a meteorite and took out half her forces.

In her defense though, it wasn't everyday that someone tried to use a vehicle to kill her.

Still, it wasn't the brazen nature of the attack that took her by surprise. What really ground her gears was her attacker. Wasea's jaw had nearly dropped when she saw the driver of the aircar make a neat exit out of the vehicle seconds before impact. Her consternation deepened when the mysterious assailant made a textbook backflip and landed on the ground with nary a sound.

That was the moment she had known that their enemy was no ordinary fighter. Far from it, in fact.

"Fuck. . ." one of her lieutenants swore. "Someone get that bastard!"

"Wait!" Wasea yelled, but her warning went unheeded as the nearest Eclipse soldiers raised their weapons and charged the newest entry to the battlefield.

Wasea wanted to scream in frustration. Out of all the decisions her subordinate could have made, rushing their opponent was probably the worst one. The way the mysterious hooded figure got to his feet, flexing his gloved fingers, arms hanging casually at his side, clearly showed that he'd fully expected that foolish reaction. This, Wasea thought, was not a man who did things by half.

And she was right. By the goddess, was she right!

Wasea could only watch helplessly as the masked fighter proceeded to tear her men apart like they were nothing. He weaved through their ranks with such swiftness that every single bullet fired in his direction missed. His counterattacks were sharp and merciless, his movements graceful and deadly like a sword flashing through the air. Indeed, he was so fast that even Wasea's vision had difficulty keeping up with him.

Nevertheless, the veteran Eclipse captain had never been one to lose her head too easily in the heat of battle. Cursing vilely under her breath in the native asari tongue, she activated her omni-tool to signal a heavy YMIR mech she had brought along to use solely as a last resort.

But even its intervention wasn't enough to slow their adversary down. The masked fighter wove skilfully between the hail of gunfire from the mechs, using Wasea's own soldiers as human shields. He then turned and dived sideways to dodge a rocket (which obliterated the last of the Eclipse troops), and in one smooth motion, drew his sniper rifle and fired at the mech.

Wasea's jaw nearly hit the floor as the rifle roared and a heavy anti-tank round blew the YMIR's head clean off. The mech sank to its knees and lit up in a huge explosion that left a sizzling crater in the ground.

In less than five minutes, the mercenaries who had managed to push even the great Commander Shepard into a corner had been whittled down to nothing. Eighty of the best fighters of Nos Astra's Eclipse chapter had been cut down like rank amateurs, even with the support of one of the most dangerous battle mechs in the galaxy.

All except one.

Wasea's jaw tightened when the masked killer slowly turned his bloodstained face towards her, his sightless eyes boring into her own, rifle still cradled causally in his arms. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to turn tail and run because there was no way she was going to escape this encounter alive.

 _Fuck that. . . I'm not going down that easily. . ._

With a snarl, Wasea used her biotics to lift a nearby crate of red sand. Then, to the surprise of everyone in the vicinity, she smashed the container at her feet. She felt the reddish-brown fumes of the Red Sand waft around her and took a deep whiff.

The powerful drug's effects kicked in within seconds. Unfurling her now enhanced biotics, Wasea smirked triumphantly.

 _Now let's see what you're really made of. . . . ._

* * *

While all this was going on, our two heroes watched the chaos unfurl from a good distance.

"Now this," Garrus Vakarian announced, "is gonna be one hell of a fight!"

"Yeah," Shepard nodded, squinting towards the asari and their unknown savior facing off against each other. "Sure feels nice to be viewing it from the sidelines for once."

"Tell me about it."

"But I gotta say, Garrus. . . your friend's got some moves," Shepard said as they watched the masked man dodge a flurry of biotic-powered attacks.

"He's the best at what he does," the turian admitted. "And he knows how to make an entrance. . . which is more than what I can say for _some_ people." He finished by shooting her a dark look.

"What!? Now that's just plain double-standards!" Shepard was outraged. "How come _his_ entrance was awesome and mine wasn't?"

"Simple: he _deliberately_ crashed his aircar. _You_ , on the other hand, lost control."

"I didn't lose control of anything, Vakarian," the Commander sniffed haughtily. "I was just trying to pull a Blasto from _Casino Shrimp Royale_!"

"Well. . . technically speaking, Blasto loses control of his aircar too. So you succeeded," Garrus grinned, popping a few nuts into his mouth.

"Puhleez. . . Blasto never loses control of anything. It was all part of his cunning plan to rescue Vesper Lynd, I tell you. . . wait. . . where did you get those nuts?"

"Brought 'em along in case I got hungry," Garrus shrugged. "Why!?"

Shepard was incensed. "How dare you bring snacks and not share them with your Commander!? I'm confiscating them this instant. . ."

"Whoa! Easy there, Commander! These aren't levo-friendly!"

"Hand 'em over. . ."

"I don't want to. . ."

"That's an order, Vakarian!"

"Don't push me, Shepard!"

A few yards away, Miranda Lawson put a hand to her head still throbbing from the aftereffects of the red sand. "This is it," she muttered in resignation. "I'm going to die surrounded by bloody idiots."

* * *

A short distance away, a certain asari Captain was expressing a somewhat similar sentiment.

Try as she might, Wasea couldn't land a single blow on her enemy. Her opponent seemed to possess the incredible ability to accurately predict every single one of moves, and even her enhanced perception couldn't give her the edge she needed.

 _Fuck. . ._

Gathering her strength, Wasea launched a singularity, which her attacker predictably dodged. Without wasting a second, she followed up with an immensely powerful bolt of pure biotic energy that would have torn him apart at the molecular level if it had connected.

Except that it didn't. Moving gracefully through the air, the masked fighter spun just enough to dodge the energy bolt and drew his own pistol to fire two rounds at her.

 _Shit. . ._

Wasea barely had time to throw up a powerful barrier to absorb the impact of the heavy pistol rounds. Almost immediately, the effects of Red Sand started kicking in and she coughed. The metallic tinge of blood filled her mouth.

 _Can't keep this up much longer. . . I gotta get in close. . ._

Knowing that timing was of the essence here, she launched a few more heavy objects at him to distract his focus. Then concentrating her own energy, Wasea shot forward like a biotic cannonball, charging right within striking distance of her enemy.

 _Gotcha!_

Her mouth contorted into a feral smile, Wasea gathered her strength and launched a roundhouse kicked right at the masked assassin's head. The biotic energy concentrated in it was so strong that even the simple act of her leg brushing against his head would have been enough to make it explode.

Except that didn't happen.

Wasea could hardly believe her eyes when the man bent at an almost impossible angle and neatly dodged the incoming kick. Still she moved, using her momentum to bring the other leg around in another graceful arc, but he jumped backward in time to clear her second biotic-reinforced kicks.

The Eclipse veteran swore under breath. This bastard was good. No, he was _beyond_ good. All the crap she'd thrown at him over the last few minutes didn't even seem to faze him. He just stood there, regarding her as blankly as before, not even breathing as hard.

Wasea, on the other hand, was on borrowed time. Her breathing was harsh and labored. Her vision was turning red and her head throbbed with indescribable pain. The symptoms of red-sand poisoning were slowly kicking into her system.

She knew she wasn't going to survive this. But she'd damned if she was going down alone!

 _One last try. . . ._

Concentrating all her biotic power into her knees, Wasea bent into a semi-crouch. Then with a yell, she shot forward like a cannon-ball, intending to use her momentum to send them both crashing into the nearest wall. She knew she wouldn't survive the impact, but then neither would he.

The world seemed to slow down around her as the biotic charge sent her rushing forward. She smirked slightly as she watched her opponent attempt to sidestep. No way was he going to dodge her in time.

It was a fraction of a second too late that she realized that he never intended too.

To her immense surprise, the masked man's body lit up with the blue aura of biotics, ana bility that the sneaky son-of-a-bitch had kept hidden all this time. Using their power to reinforce his own strength, he grabbed one of her arms and, impossibly, pulled her sideways, using the momentum of her own charge to send her spinning.

 _Impossible. . . . !_

Wasea felt the world spin as she moved in a circle, her momentum slowly being cancelled out. But that didn't mean she was going to be tossed around like a rag doll. Gritting her teeth, she planted her feet on the ground, her muscles screaming in protest from the stress she was putting on them. Then she focused her remaining energy and swung out her fist at his face with enough power to crush his skull.

And missed.

His head cocked ever so slightly to the left, barely dodging her blow. At the same time his right arm swung below.

 **BANG!**

Wasea's body jerked backward in shock and blood spewed from her abdomen as she doubled up on the ground. She continued to cough up blood as her vanquisher stood above her, observing her closely.

"You fought well," a gravelly voice said. Wasea's eyes widened in slight surprise. A drell. On Ilium? With that kind of skill, it could only be one man. . .

She'd heard rumors about him. Supposedly, the most dangerous assassin in the galaxy. A reputation most well-deserved, she admitted to herself. He was also a killer who fought for the little guys, the oppressed, the underdogs. Any shame she might have felt losing to him evaporated in an instant.

No shame in losing to the best, after all.

Slowly, Thane Krios removed his mask and gazed at her with an inscrutable expression. There was the slightest sign of respect in his face. "Do you have any last words?"

Wasea smirked in defiance. "I'll see you in hell, Krios."

"Perhaps you will," Thane agreed. He raised his arm and fired once. "Or perhaps Arashu will have mercy on your soul. As she has on mine."

* * *

It was with a rather awestruck expression that Commander Jane Shepard finally approached their savior.

"That was incredible!" she exclaimed. "I've never seen anyone fight like that before!"

"Thank you," the drell returned. "It's an honor to be praised by one such as yourself, Commander Shepard."

"Yeah, well. . . you've got me at a disadvantage Mr. . . ?"

"Krios. Thane Krios." He gave a slight bow. "We have a mutual acquaintance who alerted me to your predicament."

"She couldn't have chosen better," Garrus grinned. "Good to see you again, Thane."

"Sere Vakarian," Thane greeted, bowing even lower.

"Garrus will do, old pal."

"Very well," the drell smiled slightly. "Garrus."

Miranda watched the whole exchange with an expression of bewilderment. While she wasn't that surprised at Krios being a mole for the Shadow Broker (she'd had her suspicions about Massani and Goto for a while now), she had to admit that the brazen manner in which Shepard and Vakarian were having their conversation puzzled her. They were smart enough to know where her loyalties lay, and ought to have anticipated that nothing would keep her from reporting all this to the Illusive Man.

It was almost like they didn't care. Or rather, it was like they didn't expect her to betray them to Cerberus.

Well, they were wrong about that.

 _Or were they. . . ?_

As much as she hated to admit it, Miranda had to concede that the idea of ratting Shepard out to the Illusive Man did not appeal to her any more. Perhaps this was because of the long time she'd spent on the Lazarus project or her own emotional investment in the mission, but as the days went by even the usually cold and driven Miranda Lawson was finding it difficult to think of Jane Shepard as merely a means to an end.

It was with a slight feeling of consternation that Miranda realized that she had, in her own way, come to _care_ about Shepard. Not in the way most people did. But in her own, slightly distant way, Miranda had to admit that the other woman had come to matter to her as much as Cerberus did.

 _But Cerberus isn't here with you. . ._ a traitorous voice in the back of her mind said. _Neither Cerberus nor the Illusive Man are here to help you save Oriana from Father. . ._

Miranda sighed internally. That, right there, was the biggest problem with the whole situation. She had devoted twenty years of her life to Cerberus and The Illusive Man's goals, but none of them came to her aid in her time of need. For all that she had done to advance the group's interests over the years, none of it had mattered when the life of the one person she cared for more than any other was at stake.

But Shepard was different. Despite having no reason to, Shepard had agreed to help Miranda in a heartbeat. And she hadn't done out of a sense of obligation (since Miranda knew that Shepard had never asked to be brought back to life, and thus didn't owe her anything), she'd done it simply because it was, to her, the right thing to do. Watching the Commander as she eyed Krios' custom-built rifle with a child-like fascination, Miranda had to admit that, despite her annoying habits, Commander Jane Shepard was perhaps far more worthy of her admiration than even the Illusive Man had ever been.

She shook her head violently. _Not the time. I must find Oriana first._

Clearing her throat, Miranda stepped forward. "Commander, we need to keep moving."

Shepard nodded. "Alright, let's go." She then turned back to Thane. "I was going to ask you to help us save the galaxy, but we've got something more important to do. Wanna help us save a little girl's life?"

The drell bowed solemnly. "My arm is yours to command."

* * *

With the elevators being disabled, the group had no other choice but to proceed the rest of the way on foot. Fortunately, the area ahead was mostly clear since Enyala had wisely chosen to concentrate the bulk of her forces at the extraction point. Another good stroke of fortune enabled them to meet up with Zaeed and Kasumi, who had arrived in time for the upcoming confrontation with some much needed backup.

Miranda, however, was far from impressed with who they'd brought.

"What the bloody hell is _she_ doing here!?" she snarled.

"Nice to see you too, Cheerleader," Jack grinned viciously. "You look like shit, by the way."

Shepard sighed and glanced at Zaeed, who simply shrugged. "Your friend said we'd need some serious firepower, and she was the only one around."

"What about Grunt?"

"Wandered off on his own for a bit. Figured it was better than letting him stay in the ship all by himself."

"You let Grunt go sight-seeing in Nos Astra all by himself?" Garrus said incredulously.

"I'm old, not stupid, mate," the grizzled mercenary snorted. "Told Taylor and Solus to keep an eye on the big guy the whole time."

"You really think that's a good idea?"

"Sure," Zaeed shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen?"

 _ **Meanwhile, in a store in Nos Astra. . . .**_

 _"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'YOU'RE OUT OF STOCK'!?"_

 _The salarian clerk behind the counter nearly wet himself with fear. "S-Sir. . . l-like I just s-said. . ."_

 _The huge krogan leant forward and glared at him with menacing blue eyes. "This, here," he jabbed his finger at a small holo-pad, "says that I'm supposed to get a free model of Drugbar the varren with a Shiagur action figure."_

 _"Y-yes. . ."_

 _"THEN WHERE IS IT!?" he bellowed. "WHERE'S MY DRUGBAR!?"_

 _"T-That offer w-was v-valid only for a certain time! I-I'm afraid we're out of s-stock. . ."_

 _Grunt leaned forward some more until his face was merely an inch away from the store clerk's. "Are you **lying** to me, salarian?"_

 _"W-what. . .?"_

 _"Are you trying to fool me with your lies!? Are you trying to deny me my rightful action figure!?"_

 _"Sir. . ."_

 _ **"GRAAAAH!** " The krogan let out a huge roar and smashed the display counter with his hands, causing the salarian clerk to shriek and fall to the ground._

 _"YOU TREACHEROUS SALARIANS ARE ALL THE SAME!" he bellowed. "FIRST YOU INFLICT THE GENOPHAGE UPON MY PEOPLE, AND NOW YOU DENY ME MY HERITAGE!?"_

 _"I'm sorry!" the store clerk squealed. "Please, don't kill me!"_

 _But Grunt was beyond reason now. "NO MORE! NO MORE SHALL I TOLERATE SUCH INSULTS TO THE KROGAN!" He pulled out his shotgun and fired in the air. "FOR SHIAGUR! FOR DRUGBAR! FOR FREE ACTION FIGURES!"_

 _"No!" an asari shrieked. "Not my prized Galaxy of Fantasy ship collection!"_

 ** _"I. AM. KROGANNNNN!"_**

 _A safe distance away from the ensuing carnage, an elderly salarian thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Hmm. . . fascinating. Not often get to see the manifestation of blood rage in a krogan outside of battlezone. Must observe carefully."_

 _"Aren't you gonna do anything to stop him, Dr Solus?" Jacob asked helplessly._

 _"No, thank you. Must observe for sake of science. Also prefer keeping head on shoulders," Mordin mumbled, wincing slightly as Grunt proceeded to violently attack a life-sized figure of Sihon the Salarian Spectre (hero of the famous S3 game series). "Will not prevent you from attempting to intervene though," the salarian scientist added brightly. "Will also be happy to return remains to Normandy at end."_

 _Jacob sighed. Some days he hated his life._

 ** _Present._**

"Well. . . I suppose it won't be too bad," Shepard murmured thoughtfully. "We should probably get moving too."

"So where're we headed?" Jack called out as they began to walk up a flight of stairs. "Gramps here didn't mention what this was all about."

"We're trying to rescue a young girl," Garrus answered. "Miranda's sister, as a matter of fact."

"No shit! The Cheerleader's got a fucking sister!?" Jack exclaimed. "She must be one hell of a. . ."

"Don't even _think_ about finishing that sentence," Miranda said dangerously.

"Or what?" the convict sneered. "You gonna scratch me with your nails?"

"Jack," Shepard said warningly.

"Hey, I'm just saying that if she's the Cheerleader's sister, she must be a pretty-little perfect princess too. . ."

"That's it!" Miranda spat. "I've had enough!"

"Whoa!" Shepard yelled, throwing an arm around her. "Cool down, Miranda!"

"Insulting me is one thing, Shepard. But if she says _one_ more thing about Oriana. . ."

"You're gonna do what, huh!? And what kind of a dumb name is _'Oriana'_ anyway. . .?"

"Enough!" Shepard snarled forcefully. "Stand down, _both_ of you!"

For a tense moment, all three strong-willed women glared at each other. Then Shepard sighed. "Look, Miranda. . . I get that you don't like this. But now that Jack's here, it'd be foolish not to use her in the fight. Especially since we don't know what's waiting for us on the other side!"

"And Jack," she rounded on the other woman. "I don't care what problems you've got with Miranda, you will _not_ insult her sister in front of her!"

"Hey. . ."

"Shut it!" Shepard snapped. "We had a deal: you do what I tell you to do, and I let you love on my ship and give you a shit-load of credits at the end. So now, I'm telling you to keep your mouth shut and follow my orders! If you can't accept that, walk the fuck away! Now!"

She took a step back and glared at both of them. "Is that understood?"

Both women glared at each other venomously for a few more minutes. Then Miranda nodded and walked away, leaving Jack to fall behind and follow the group sullenly.

"Hey guys!" Kasumi called out suddenly. "I found a service elevator whose circuits haven't been fried. Might be able to use it."

"Can you get it to work?" Shepard asked.

The girl simply cracked her knuckles. "Gimme two mins, Shep."

While they waited, Garrus and Zaeed worked to hack into of enemy communications once again. With the old merc's knowledge of Eclipse's comm systems, it took them very little time to be able to listen in on Enyala's conversation with her subordinates.

"Now. . . . Niket. . . transport. . ." a garbled voice rang across.

"Could you clean that up, Garrus?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah. Nearly there," he replied. A little more fiddling with his omni-tool and Enyala's voice rang out again, much clearer this time.

 _"Niket has reached the terminal. I repeat. Niket has reached the terminal. He'll switch the family over to our transport in a few minutes."_

Everyone froze and turned to look at Miranda, who had gone, if possible, even paler from shock. "It. . . can't be. . ." she ground out. "That can't be right. . ."

"Miranda. . ." Shepard began cautiously.

But the brunette was no longer paying any attention as she paced from side to side. "That can't be right," she muttered to herself. "Maybe. . . maybe the captain knows we're listening in and she's feeding misinformation about Niket making a switch. Or maybe it means something else. Niket wouldn't do that. . ."

A disbelieving snort from Jack caused her to look up in anger. Shepard stepped forward hastily before tempers could flare up once again. "Miranda," she said quietly. "I've asked you this before: what makes you so sure that Niket wouldn't turn on you?"

"Because he could've turned on me when I ran away," she replied impatiently. "I'm sure my father tried to buy him off. If he didn't do it then, why would he do it now?"

A sudden thought seemed to occur to Garrus. "Lawson," he asked slowly. "Does Niket know that you took Oriana from your father?"

"No, he just found out about that recently. It was too personal to involve someone else."

Shepard and Garrus exchanged a look of understanding.

"You can't be serious," Miranda said, staring at both of them. "Surely he wouldn't. . .? But. . . but Niket _knows_ my father. He knows what I went through. Surely he'd understand. . ."

"Done!" Kasumi cried as the elevator doors glowed green. "We're good to go, Shep."

Shepard spared Miranda a glance as they piled in. "Well, let's just hope you're right, Miranda. For all our sakes."

* * *

As the elevator doors opened, the company was greeted to the sight of a human and an asari arguing near a bunch of crates. The asari, an Eclipse Captain (judging from her uniform), looked up but didn't raise the shotgun hanging casually at her side as Shepard and her gang walked towards them.

The human, on the other hand, looked about ready to faint.

"M-Miri. . .?" Niket's face had gone white with shock. "Ho-How did you. . . ?"

"Niket," Miranda greeted him coldly. "You sold me out."

"This. . . I can explain. . ."

"Oh really!?" she drawled, eyes flashing dangerously. "Go on. I'm positively dying to hear you attempt to justify all of this!"

Niket didn't respond, merely gaping at her like a fish out of water. Miranda took a step forward and everybody tensed, but the brunette hadn't even raised her own weapon yet. Strangely enough, neither had Enyala. She was simply observing everything with a calculating expression on her face.

Miranda's eyes locked on to that of her former friend. "Why?" she said. That single word seemed to carry more hurt and accusation than anything else she'd said so far. "Why did you betray me, Niket?"

"Miri. . . I. . ."

"I _trusted_ you!" Miranda snarled. "You were supposed to be my friend! You helped me escape! So why would you. . ."

"Because you _lied_ to me!" Niket exploded. "Dammit Miri. . . don't stand there and act all high and mighty with me after everything you've done!"

"Everything _I've_ done!?" Miranda repeated in shock. "What are you talking about!?"

"You _stole_ a baby," he said, glaring at her. "You took a child from her father. I helped you escape because you wanted to leave! Because you wanted to be free! But instead you went and kidnapped. . ."

"I didn't _steal_ Oriana," Miranda shot back. "I was rescuing her!"

"From a life of wealth and happiness!?" Niket asked incredulously. "You weren't _saving_ her! You were getting back at your father!"

"How did Miranda's father turn you?" Shepard spoke up for the first time.

"They told me you'd kidnapped your baby sister all those years ago," Niket said, still glaring at Miranda. "They said I could help get her back peacefully. No trauma to the family. I told them you'd never do that. That they could go to hell. Then you finally told me what you'd done. I called them back that night."

Miranda's voice thickened with emotion. "Why didn't you call me, Niket?" she burst out. "We've been through a lot. You could've at least let me explain!"

"I _deserved_ to know that you'd stolen your sister, Miri." Niket's voice was calmer, but no less betrayed than Miranda. "I deserved to know you were with Cerberus! But I had to hear it from your father first!"

"Cut the crap," Garrus harrumphed. "How much did Henry Lawson pay you to set the whole thing up?"

"Nothing. It's true," he nodded at Miranda's expression of disbelief. "He offered. Many times. But I refused to touch his dirty money."

"Then why are you helping him take back Oriana?" Shepard asked. "You _know_ the girl has been with her family for years."

"Her father can still give her a better life," Niket argued.

"You don't know what my father _wants_ for her!" Miranda snapped.

"I know that I've been poor," Niket replied. "I didn't much care for it."

The two old friends continued to glare defiantly at each other. Once again, Shepard decided to cut in. "This is getting us nowhere," she muttered to herself. Turning to Enyala she said aloud, "I knew Eclipse was willing to get their hands dirty, but kidnapping a kid? Isn't that a little low, even for you guys?"

"I'm not stealing her," the asari smirked. "I'm _rescuing_ her. Come on, Niket. Let's finish this bitch off and get out of here."

Miranda's pistol was out in a flash. "Take your best shot, bitch!"

"I was just waiting for you to finish getting dressed," Enyala retorted. "Or does Cerberus really let you whore around in that outfit?"

"I like her," Jack piped up "We still recruiting?"

Everyone ignored her (though Kasumi rolled her eyes a little under her hood). Garrus felt something new occur to him and turned to Miranda. "Lawson, if Niket knows about Oriana, then your father does too. Relocating her won't help."

"Miranda's father has no information about Oriana," Niket said slowly. "I knew you had spy programs in your father's system, Miri, so I kept it private. I only told him I had a number of leads to follow up. I'm the only one who knows the whole thing."

Garrus winced slightly. _Damn. He really shouldn't have said that. . ._

"Which means that you're the only loose end," Miranda said sadly, turning her weapon towards him. "This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket. I. . . I'm going to miss you. . ."

"Wait!" Shepard cried, knocking her hand away.

"Shepard! What are you. . . !?"

"Listen to me, Miranda! Niket didn't betray you. . ."

"But he just admitted. . !"

"He did what he did because he thought you'd betrayed him," Shepard said simply. "Don't you get it? He's hurt because you kept such a huge thing from him, and he told your father about Oriana because he thought he was doing the right thing!"

"But. . ."

"Miranda, listen!" Shepard insisted. "If Niket really _had_ sold you out, he would have taken your dad's money. But he didn't! As crazy it sounds, he's _still_ loyal to you!"

"Maybe Niket can help us with your father." She turned back to the man who was staring at them both apprehensively. "This plan of yours is officially over. If Henry Lawson asks, just tell him Miranda got here first. Or better yet, say your leads didn't pan out."

"I can do that," he agreed slowly. "I'll say that Miranda did too good a job of hiding her. That I couldn't find out where she is and I have to keep looking."

Miranda nodded stiffly. "As long as your ' _looking_ ' takes you far, far away from me. Understand this, Niket: I never want to see you aga—"

"Watch out!" Thane called out suddenly.

 **BANG.**

A shower of gore exploded out of Niket's chest. The unfortunate man barely had time to widen his eyes in surprise before he slumped to the ground, dead.

"And that takes care of that," Enyala said calmly, reloading her shotgun. "Now if you don't mind, I have a shipment to deliver."

Miranda's face contorted in rage. "You'll die for this, bitch!" she screamed and launched a biotic throw so powerful that Enyala went sailing through the air.

Shepard swore and hefted her assault rifle. "Everyone attack!"

* * *

While she may not have been an experienced fighter like Wasea, Captain Enyala of the Eclipse was quite a formidable fighter in her own right. Having spent close to a century in the mercenary business, she was well-versed with all the tricks of the trade and had a vicious streak a mile wide. This, coupled with her strategic brilliance and competence, made her one of the most infamous leaders of Ilium's Eclipse division.

Naturally, most people would've assumed that no human biotic, however skilled, could hope to match her in a one-on-one fight. When that human was a pissed-off Miranda Lawson though, those people would be wrong.

The sheer ferocity with which Miranda attacked the asari was beyond anything any of them had ever seen. Even Garrus, who thought he'd seen the worst of her, was too stunned to make any smartass remarks for once.

All the frustration that she's been carrying, all the repressed anger towards her father and the unfairness of the galaxy seemed to come pouring out of Miranda in a rush of fury. Her face was frozen into a permanent mask of rage as she hurled one biotic attack after another at Enyala, who was trying too hard to stay alive to even think of a counterattack.

"Damn," Jack whistled in admiration as she watched the show. "Who knew the Cheerleader's bite was as bad as her bark?"

"You would, if you paid any attention during missions," Garrus replied. He causally dropped an Eclipse engineer with a headshot. "Miranda's always held back a little in our fights, mostly because she never wanted anyone to know how strong she really is. It gave her an advantage. Except that right now, I don't think strategy is at the top of her list of priorities."

"Can't say I blame her," Kasumi muttered. "Shooting that guy in the back was pretty cold-blooded. Even for a merc."

"Whatever," Jack faked a yawn as she sent out a shockwave that sent several troopers flying. "I still think I could kick her ass."

"Don't be too sure," Shepard said. "Given the state she's in, I doubt even I could beat her in a straight up fight. And that's even after considering that she's suffering from considerable red-sand poisoning."

"You're shitting me!?" the convict exclaimed. "The Cheerleader got sand-blasted!?"

"Yeah. And she's still managed to put an asari captain on the defensive. What does that tell you?"

Jack didn't reply, continuing to stare at the fight between the two biotics.

Meanwhile, the battle between Enyala and Miranda was slowly drawing to a close. Disarmed of her weapon and watching her men being cut down by the crazy Cerberus bitch's friends meant that the asari captain was no longer concerned about completing her mission. Her biggest priority now was to get out of here in one piece.

Feinting a move towards the left, Enyala reached out and sent a piece of wreckage flying at the human woman from the right. As Miranda dodged, jumped closer and raised her pistol. Cursing slightly, the asari somersaulted backwards, knocking the pistol towards the air. Then she followed up with a biotic push, too close to dodge. But Miranda was smart enough to throw herself to the ground before using her hands to pivot and bring her legs swinging forward.

Her high-heeled boots made contact with Enyala's right leg, and with a sickening crack the asari captain felt her leg snap at the knee. She screamed and fell to her knees, but still managed to keep her head through the pain. Concentrating, she attempted another biotic push which Miranda attempted to counter by waving her hand, presumably launching another biotic attack that did not make contact. Enyala followed up with a biotic singularity launched as close to Miranda's position as possible, distracting her. Then she gritted her teeth and tried to get up, attempting limp as fast as possible back to her shuttle. . .

. . . only to a flying rod impaled her right in the stomach.

Dazed with pain, Enyala blinked at the foreign object lodged in her body before crumpling to the floor. Too late she realized the significance of the gesture Miranda had made a few seconds ago: a biotic pull, aimed at a steel rod behind her to use as a very effective projectile.

Enyala groaned with pain as the Cerberus operative drew closer, having already fought off the effects of the singularity she'd produced. She coughed blood and blinked wearily to see the human bearing down at her, weapon in hand.

"Mercy. . . ?" she coughed weakly.

For a second, Miranda continued to regard her with a hostile gaze; and then, amazingly, raised her pistol. Enyala's eyes widened in surprise at her good fortune before she locked eyes with the human woman who uttered the terrifying words:

"Burn in hell."

And she fired repeatedly into the air, right at a large storage container passing overhead. The last thing Captain Enyala heard was the groan of the conveyer belt snapping as Miranda Lawson walked away and the gigantic container fell, crushing her to death.

* * *

The team performed one last sweep of the transport terminal before moving to the departure area.

"There she is," Miranda said suddenly.

A short distance away stood a family of three, including a young girl bearing a striking resemblance to the woman beside Shepard.

"She's safe," she said softly, as though hardly able to believe her eyes. "With her family." She continued to stare for a few minutes before shaking herself abruptly. "We should go."

"Now?" Shepard asked in surprise. "Don't you even want to say hello or something?"

Miranda simply shrugged. "It's not about what I want. It's about what's right for her. The less Oriana knows about me, the better. She's got a family. A life. I'll just complicate that for her."

That sounded just like the sort of thing Miranda Lawson would typically say, but the Commander could sense that the usual confidence behind those words was missing. "After everything you've gone through, everything that's happened. . . you're really going to walk away? Just like that?"

Miranda said nothing.

Shepard sighed and looked at Garrus, who got the message and adroitly led the others away. She then reached out and put a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder. "What's wrong, Miranda? Talk to me."

Miranda was silent for a few moments. "Look at me," she finally said. "Take a good look at me, Shepard. What kind of a person am I?"

She gestured helplessly at herself. "All my life I've lived in the shadows. I've kept secrets, I've done horrible things in the name of the greater good. Bloody hell, just a few minutes ago I led one of my only friends to his death!"

"Oriana doesn't need this. She doesn't need this kind of a shadow hanging over her life, Shepard. She doesn't need me." Her eyes moistened slightly. "Just let it go, Commander. She deserves better than this."

"And what about what _you_ deserve, Miranda?"

The woman looked up in surprise, as though she didn't understand what Shepard was talking about.

The Commander sighed. "Look. . . it's true that Oriana could live a happy life without ever getting to know you. Between your resources and the Broker's, we could watch over from a distance and keep her safe from your father for a very long time. But what about you, Miranda?"

"After everything you've been through, everything you've done to make sure Oriana lives a good life. . . don't you think she deserves to know? I'm not saying she needs all the details, but would it really be so bad for her to know she has a sister out there in the galaxy who loves her?"

"Shepard, please," Miranda said, visibly struggling against herself. "We're on a Suicide Mission. . ."

"Which makes it all the more important for her to know," Shepard interrupted her. "Listen, Miranda: people like us who stare death in the face every time we go to work know how important life is better than anyone else. Just because we're on a mission we might not return from doesn't mean we throw away all the people and relationships we care for. If anything, it's an excuse hold onto them even tighter!"

"I. . . I suppose you're right," Miranda conceded slowly. "It wouldn't hurt. . ."

Shepard smiled and nudged her forward. "Go on," she said quietly. "I'll be here if you need me."

Hesitantly, Miranda squared her shoulders and walked forward.

For someone who had spent practically her whole life in the most dangerous environments in the galaxy, it was remarkable how nervous she felt as approached her sister. Her mouth was dry and her eyes set dead ahead as Miranda tried her hardest to figure out the best way to start the inevitable conversation.

She took a deep breath and halted a few paces away from Oriana. Before she could work up the courage to interrupt her, the young girl paused, almost as if on instinct, and slowly turned around to regard the older woman with curiosity.

"H-Hello Oriana," Miranda stammered out.

To her relief, the young girl smiled, the faintest glimmer of recognition in her eyes. "I'm sorry. . . do I know you from somewhere? You seem. . . familiar, for some reason."

Miranda Lawson's eyes moistened as a genuine smile of happiness bloomed on her face. "My name is Miranda," she began. "I'm your sister. . ."

* * *

 **AN: Whew. That update sure took me a while. I was hoping to be done with it much faster, but the last three weeks have been some of the busiest so far.  
**

 **So, a few important changes: decided to up Thane's badassery for a bit. I figured that with his reputation, it would be worth it to give him an extended fight sequence.**

 **Likewise with Miranda. For someone who spends practically the whole game talking about being genetically advanced, we never actually get to see much of it. Hence the biotics allowing her to go toe to toe with an asari captain, superior strength and reflexes, an increased healing factor etc etc. . .**

 **Also, I've changed Niket's whole motivation. I figured having him simply Henry Lawson's money would make him a simple sellout. But when you take that away and make it seem like Niket betrayed Miranda simply because he, in turn, felt betrayed, we've got a whole flavor in the scene. Not to mention his death affects Miranda a lot more since she's now aware of some sense of personal responsibility towards his actions.**

 **Next up: Thane and Garrus' first meeting is revealed. Meanwhile, Dalatrass Linron pays a visit to the enigmatic Matriarch Trellani. What does this mean for our heroes?**

 **Stay tuned to find out :)**


	24. Raise the Black Flag

**AN: Apologies for the long wait, but the last few months have been a roller coaster of sorts. Writing was pretty much the last thing I could hope to focus on.**

 **But I'm back now. And on we go with the story. . .**

* * *

The massive ship moved nimbly across the waters, its square white sails using the power of the wind to propel the craft forward with surprising speed. The black flag with its distinctive skull and cross bones waved in the air heralding the arrival of the Normandy, the scourge of the seven seas.

And atop its deck stood a figure clad in red, eyes forward, cutlass in hand. Every man and woman who laid eyes upon her trembled in fear and awe, for she was the most feared pirate in all the West indies.

Those who had seen her fight spoke in hushed whispers of the woman who could clear the deck of a Spanish galleon like it was nothing. A fearsome brute who fought like the devil, and lived on a diet of trouble and turmoil.

She was the Dread Pirate Shepard.

"Arr, at speed, ye scurvy dogs," she growled. "For I be the Dread Pirate Shepard, and I be itchin fer a fight!" She brandished her cutlass menacingly, a demonic glint in her green eyes whose effect was only slightly ruined by the eyepatch-wearing hamster sitting on her shoulder.

She strode over to her yeoman and poked her in the butt. "Arr, show me th' booty, wench!"

"Umm. . . right here, Captain?" Kelly Chambers blushed furiously.

"Arrr. . . not that booty, ye perverted bint!" She poked the ginger once more, eliciting a sharp squeal of pain. "I be th' Dread Pirate Shepard, an' I be as straight as the mast of me ship!"

Kelly looked doubtfully at the large mast upon which the sails billowed. "That's not very straight. . ."

"Arr. . . to damnation wit ye, wretched woman!" Shepard yelled in frustration. "Go to the cargo hold an' bring me an inventory of th' loot!"

"Aye, aye Captain!" The ginger scurried away.

The Dread Pirate Shepard sighed in annoyance. Good help was so hard to find these days.

Her spirits brightened as she spotted an island on the horizon. "Set course fer land, lads! We got a night of drinkin' ta look forward to!"

The crewmen cheered wildly.

"Fifty men on a dead man's chest," she sang. "Yo-ho-ho, an' a bottle of brandy! Drink to th' Devil an' he'll do th' rest. Yo-ho-ho, an' a bottle of brandy. . ."

"It's 'rum', actually," an annoying voice said from behind her.

An irritated Shepard swung around and swiftly stabbed the source of the interruption in the side, grinning at the very satisfying yelp of pain from her quartermaster. "Lawson, ye scurvy braggart," she said. "Have ye gotten a message fer me from th' Illusive Bum?"

"It's the 'Illusive Man'," the brunette mumbled through clenched teeth as she rubbed her abused hips. "And yes, I have. He has a mission for you."

"Hmm." The Dread Pirate scratched her fake red beard with a not-fake hook on her left hand. "Will there be booty?"

"Obviously. Since it'd be impossible to get you to do any work otherwise," Lawson sniffed. "Although why you'd need more booty is beyond me. We already have plenty on this ship." She blushed when she realized the unintentional innuendo in her words, a fact which was not lost on Shepard.

"Aye. I had ye pegged as one of 'em the day I firs' saw ye," the pirate captain nodded. "Just don't get any ideas wit me, Lawson. I be the Dread Pirate Shepard! I be as straight as. . ." she frowned in thought, "the straightest thing aboard me ship!"

Ignoring her quartermaster's stammered protests, Shepard moved to the helm of the ship. "Change course, Joker, ye scurvy wretch! Shore leave will have ter wait!" Her bright green eyes were filled with unholy greed. "We got me some lootin' ter do!"

Suddenly, a large shape burst out of the water, sending a massive spray of brine into the air.

" _ **Shepard. . ."**_

"Harbinger, ye black bastard!" the Dread Pirate bellowed in rage. "Dare ye come between me an' my loot!?"

" _ **We are the Harbinger of your perfection!"**_ the giant squid announced. _**"Prepare yourself, Shepard!"**_

"Turn th' ship around, lads!" Shepard bellowed. "Let's give this bastard a taste of our gunpowder!"

Meanwhile, back in the real world, Garrus Vakarian surveyed the carnage with dispassionate eyes.

He counted no less than three turians, one krogan, and one hanar being led away on stretchers to be treated for severe alcohol poisoning. His eyes roamed across the partially destroyed bar before coming to rest on the sleeping form of his best friend and then, very slowly, turned to glare at the sheepish-looking bartender.

"I-I warned her to stop after her fifteenth shot of Elcor Brandy," the turian bartender protested meekly. "I did! But-but the crazy human with the tattoos threatened to tear me apart if I stopped mixing drinks. No way was I going to say 'no' to a drunk biotic!"

A wise decision, Garrus thought. But not one that did them much good in the end. Once again he took in the wreckage of what was one of the hottest bars on Ilium, before his eyes settled on the source of all this chaos who was lying bonelessly on the ground, groaning and swearing under her breath.

He honestly couldn't believe who was the bigger idiot here: the krogan and his buddies for challenging Shepard and Jack to a drinking competition, the bartender for agreeing to this, Jack for encouraging Shepard to take up the challenge, or the Commander for actually taking their team's resident psychotic biotic seriously.

The stoic drell standing beside him did not help matters in the slightest.

"Thane," Garrus said quietly. "I want you to know, this absolutely isn't what it looks like."

"I understand," the assassin answered.

"You do?" he asked, hoping against hope that Thane seriously wasn't reconsidering his life choices now.

"The measure of a man can be difficult to discern by actions alone," Thane said wisely. "I have already long since committed myself to helping you see this through. Rest assured I have no intention of changing my mind. My arm belongs to Shepard now."

Garrus heaved a silent sigh of relief. "That's good to hear."

"Besides, I must admit I have never worked for someone who could out-drink a krogan," the drell said with the barest hint of admiration in his voice. "This mission promises to be. . . interesting, to say the least."

"You can say that again," Garrus muttered, before clearing his throat. "Alright, we just need to gather these two and head back to the Norma. . ."

"Officer Vakarian," EDI's voice rang in his earpiece.

"Yeah?"

"I believe now would be a good time to inform you that Grunt has been apprehended by Illium's Law Enforcement division for creating a public disturbance."

"What!? What the hell. . . I thought Mordin and Jacob were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!?"

"They have also been apprehended."

"Spirits! But why!?"

"Inciting a public riot in a local strip club."

Garrus shook his head slightly. "EDI, I think I misheard you. Did you just say that Mordin and Jacob caused a riot in a strip club?"

"According to eye-witness reports, Dr Solus attempted to diagnose several of the dancers there with scale itch and a variety of other sexually transmitted diseases," EDI explained. "The asari who owned the club did not take this well, and ordered her bouncers to attack them both. By the time Illium Law Enforcement personnel arrived, Dr Solus and Operative Taylor had neutralized half the targets in the club. In self-defense."

The turian groaned. "I'll be on my way once I manage to wake Shepard up. Thane, could you find your way to the ship? EDI will help you settle in."

"Of course." And the assassin departed.

Garrus shook his head and stared at the passed-out drunk for of his Commander, who'd now begun to drool on the table, muttering impolite slurs under her breath as she battled her arch-enemy in the land of dreams.

 _Spirits. They don't pay me enough for this. . . . ._

* * *

 _ **Thessia.**_

Linron gazed dispassionately out the window of her private cab as they drew ever closer to their destination. The sleek towers dotting the skyline of Thessia painted a beautiful picture against the backdrop of the setting sun. Views such as this were a key part of the Asari homeworld's charm.

But Linron wasn't here to enjoy the view. She had far more pressing matters on her mind.

The Dalatrass of the Salarian Union mentally steeled herself for the coming encounter. This was one particularly perceptive individual she was visiting, and as such, she would have to be extra-careful to not give anything away.

Her vessel guided to a smooth halt on a landing pad at the very top of an imposing tower. Linron allowed her security team a few moments to exit before her before rising from her seat and joining them.

Before her stood a magnificent patio, decorated with a variety of exotic plants some of which, Linron idly noted, were housed in artificial environments due to their being not native to the asari homeworld. A few steps rose upwards to a doorway flanked on either side by grim-faced asari, and at their very centre stood the person she'd traveled light years across to see.

"Dalatrass," the asari bowed formally, her hands clasped together. "It is an honor to see you again."

It took a great deal of effort for Linron to not grimace at that statement. Matriarch Trellani was probably the only asari in the galaxy who could really make her nervous. Tall, slender, and extremely beautiful by even asari standards, her attractive personality was matched by an intelligence that would have made even the smartest salarian in the Union look like an idiot. She was also one of the youngest Matriarchs to have a seat on the Thessian Council, which only further added to her image of complete perfection.

It was for this precise reason that Linron did not trust her. She had long since learned to be wary of people who appeared to be too perfect on the outside.

Still, the niceties had to be observed. Linron returned the bow with a polite nod, since that was as much leeway as her aged spine allowed her, and said, "Thank you. I apologize for asking for this meeting at such short notice."

"Not at all, Dalatrass," Trellani smiled. She turned gracefully and led her guests inside the apartment.

Linron took the proffered seat, gently refused an offer of refreshments, and waited until her hostess had perched herself comfortably on a nearby sofa.

The Dalatrass decided to directly get to the heart of the matter. "I received a call from the Triumvirate a few days ago."

A slight quirk of the eyebrow was Trellani's only reaction. Another reason why Linron disliked her. The woman could be downright impossible to read sometimes.

"They seem to be rather. . . concerned about recent developments in the fringes of the galaxy," Linron continued. "The Terminus systems, to be specific."

"Ah," the Matriarch nodded in understanding.

"You don't seem surprised," Linron observed.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Trellani gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. "The Triumvirate has always kept an eye on the unusual events in the galaxy. And " _unusual_ " hardly does any justice to current events in the Terminus systems."

She traced a finger along the rim of her glass. "A Spectre back from the dead, entire colonies vanishing overnight, Collectors venturing forth from the Omega 4 relay. . ." A soft musical note of laughter escaped her lips. "One would've thought of it as the script of a new holo-vid, if not for the all evidence the STG has uncovered."

Linron ignored the subtle compliment. "The Triumvirate seemed more concerned about Commander Shepard's return than the Collectors," she stated.

"And?"

Linron gritted her teeth. The bitch wanted her to spell it out, did she? Very well. "I wanted to know if the rest of the Matriarch Council shares these concerns."

"You're asking me if the Matriarchs consider Commander Shepard's association with Cerberus a threat to the Asari's domination of galactic politics?" Trellani smiled slyly.

The Dalatrass nodded curtly, causing Trellani's smile to widen ever so slightly.

"It is. . . hard to say precisely what they think. The Council hasn't convened for their yearly meeting yet. But there have been rumors. . ."

"What kind of rumors?" Linron asked impatiently. She'd always had little patience for the mind games the asari liked to play. It was difficult for salarians to beat around the bush when their lifespan was already so limited.

Trellani did not answer immediately, choosing instead to gaze out of the nearby window. It was plain to see that she wasn't going to allow anyone to dictate the pace of the conversation in her own home, whoever they might be. "Cerberus has always been an object of curiosity for the Council."

"On one hand, they talk of advancing human interests in the galaxy, yet they have never been very forthright about what exactly that is supposed to mean. They speak of protecting their species from exploitation by the galactic community; yet they have shown no restraint in sacrificing members of their own species in many distasteful endeavors."

Linron almost snorted at that. It was hypocritical of Trellani to criticize Cerberus when neither of their species had ever held back on experimenting on their own. The Lystheni, a race of Salarian outcasts reviled for their extensive cybernetic enhancements, had often been used by the STG for experimentation and black ops missions, and at one point the asari government had been rumored to use Ardat-Yakshi for illegal research on biotics. "Your point being?"

"Why would an organization with such a history invest so much in one single human? Why is Cerberus so keen to help Commander Shepard when her own military, her own beloved Systems Alliance, refuses to take her seriously?"

"I imagine that having several thousand members of your species disappear overnight might be a little inconvenient for them. The Terminus Systems are a fertile recruiting ground for organizations such as theirs," Linron offered dryly. She had no desire to share any knowledge of Cerberus' true motives with the woman sitting before her. "Not to mention that having humanity's first Spectre in their corner will boost their failing reputation significantly."

"There is that," Trellani conceded. "Or perhaps they wish to obtain something that only Shepard can deliver? Something that will give them the edge they need to move against the major galactic powers?"

She let that ominous statement hand in the air for a few moments before getting to her feet.

"Personally, I have no particular grudge against Shepard herself," Trellani murmured. "If anything, I am grateful to her. Her actions at the Battle of the Citadel saved the Council and the Destiny Ascension, both key symbols of asari power in the galaxy, at the cost of so many of her own. So many others would have chosen otherwise."

"But despite everything she has done, one cannot deny that she is a threat to the status quo. Too wild, too unpredictable. . . too reckless to be allowed free reign." She heaved a dramatic sigh. "It is a shame. It truly is."

Linron nodded slowly while her mind raced a mile a minute. Without saying it aloud, Trellani had just given her everything she'd wanted.

Yes, the Matriarch Council considered Shepard a threat. Yes, they were aware that fighting the Collectors was just a ruse for Cerberus to get its hands on some very advanced technology. Yes, the asari (like the salarians) had no desire to let the humans get their hands on such technology.

"I'll take my leave now," the Dalatrass announced. "Thank you for your hospitality, Matriarch."

"It was an honor to host you, Dalatrass," Trellani curtsied. As she walked the older woman out, she asked, "If I may be so bold, how do you plan on solving our little. . . problem?"

"I was hoping to ask a small favor from a few Lystheni clans I know," Linron admitted. They had always been the STG's preferred source for covert assassinations of highly public figures. The Lystheni's outcast status was so well-known that no one in the galaxy would dream of connecting them to the Union."

"An intelligent decision," the asari nodded. "But while their technological prowess is unmatched, the Lystheni are not particularly known for their knowledge of combat tactics. It is unlikely they will succeed against a soldier of Shepard's caliber."

"Oh." Linron narrowed her eyes. It seemed that the wily Matriarch still had one card to play. "Do you have any alternatives in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Trellani smiled, a glint of viciousness in her beautiful eyes. "I happen to know someone who is very eager to settle a score with the Commander and her friends."

At an invisible gesture from her, two asari commandos swept away. Linron heard the sound of a door opening and felt her body tense in fear as they escorted in what could be the largest salarian the Dalatrass had ever seen.

"Who. . . who is this?" she whispered, a chill going up her spine at the sight of the mercenary's mangled face.

"This is Tazzik. I believe you will find him most suitable to the task at hand, Dalatrass."

* * *

 _ **A few hours later. Normandy.**_

"Welcome to the Life Support section of the Normandy, Mr Krios. I trust this will be sufficient for your purposes?"

The drell ran over the room once with a practiced eye. Plain, with no unnecessary decorations or furniture, practical, and noticeably more arid than the rest of the ship. Perfect.

"This will do. Thank you," he replied to the AI, which promptly blinked out of existence. Thane waited another moment before walking towards a makeshift bed, upon which he placed a small bag with his meager belongings. He zipped open the bag and made a show of removing a few pieces of clothing, using a quick movement to stick a handgun under the nearby pillow. While he was more than capable of neutralizing anyone aboard this ship with his bare hands, it never hurt to be careful in his line of business.

Not that Thane had any particular reason to be worried. Certainly he trusted Garrus Vakarian, and by extension Commander Shepard, with his life.

Cerberus, on the other hand. . .

He ran another eye over his cabin, casually making a note of the number of hidden cameras and surveillance bugs present. Twelve. . . no, fourteen. Well hidden, certainly not planted by a novice. But not enough to fool a man with his skills.

He mentally considered removing them all before dismissing the thought in an instant. Cerberus already had a pretty thorough record about him, and there wasn't much else that he wanted to conceal. Besides, he had long since learned that the easiest place to hide was in plain sight.

The drell took a seat at the table close to the bed, his mind now going over the events of the last 24 hours. He had to hand it to his turian friend. Things had turned out almost exactly as he'd predicted they would.

His new friend's uncanny knack of being able to predict the future had always surprised him. For while there was no doubt that Garrus Vakarian was an intelligent man, he was no prophet. Yet his certainty towards the future had always struck Thane as fairly odd. Indeed, sometimes it was almost as if the young man had seen and lived through this life once before. . .

But, honestly, what did he care? It was not that unusual for his employers to shroud their methods in secrecy. And besides, it would be rather hypocritical of him to suspect the young turian when Thane himself had benefited more from his strange quirks than anyone else.

It was only thanks to Garrus Vakarian that he was able to reunite with Kolyat. It was only thanks to the Shadow Broker's resources that he more years to spend with his son than his Kepral's syndrome would have allowed him.

Thane owed Garrus Vakarian and Liara T'Soni a huge debt. And in Arashu's name, he would do everything in his power to repay it before the time came to be reunited with Irikah.

Unbidden, his mind went back to the day when he had first made the acquaintance of his benefactors. A smile bloomed on his face as his perfect memory replayed the events of that day, and the series of events that day had spawned.

Whatever the future held, one thing was for certain. This mission was going to be very interesting.

* * *

 **AN: So, I started replaying Assassin's Creed: Black Flag last night, and this idea popped into my head and just wouldn't go away. If enough folks like this, I might consider writing a separate AU spin-off on the adventures of the Dread Pirate Shepard. Lemme know what you think in the comments. . .  
**

 **Incidentally, I've started writing the next one in the ITF series, which is set between the events of ME1 and ME2. It shows how Garrus and Liara work to get Shepard's body back, and how Garrus and Thane met for the first time. Bonus appearance by everyone's favorite krogan king as well ;)**

 **My only question is: would you, my faithful readers, prefer to have that story as a separate fic or as a series of chapters inserted in this one? I've never actually written a series like this one, and would really appreciate some feedback. Lemme know what you'd like to see in the comments.**

 **Stay tuned for more :)**


End file.
